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The  Second  Part  of 
King   Henry  VI. 


Copyright,   1901 

By 

THE    UNIVERSITY    SOCIETY 


Critical  Comments. 
I. 

Argument. 


0OLLE< 
LiBRAf 


I.  Margaret  of  Anjou  is  brought  over  to  England 
and  wedded  to  King  Henry  VI.;  but — much  to  the  con- 
sternation of  the  King's  uncle,  Gloucester,  the  lord  pro- 
tector— she  comes  dowerless,  and  the  duchies  for  which 
Henry  V.  warred  are  suffered  to  remain  in  French  hands. 
Though  the  upright  Gloucester's  grief  is  strongly  ut- 
tered, he  is  not  upheld  when  he  unburdens  it  to  the  other 
nobles.  Instead,  they  make  a  temporary  truce  of  their 
own  quarreling,  which  has  proceeded  continuously  dur- 
ing the  young  King's  reign,  and  unite  against  the  lord 
protector.  They  find  a  ready  ally  in  the  Queen,  who  is 
eager  to  secure  unlimited  control  over  her  weak  hus- 
band. They  make  their  first  attack  through  Gloucester's 
ambitious  wife.  She  is  betrayed  into  harbouring  sorcerers 
who  raise  a  spirit  that  utters  sayings  against  the  heads 
of  the  realm.  She  and  the  conjurers  are  taken  into 
custody. 

II.  The  Duchess  of  Gloucester  is  brought  to  trial  and 
banished.  Gloucester  is  deprived  of  his  post  of  lord 
protector,  and  is  summoned  before  Parliament. 

Meanwhile  the  strife  between  the  houses  of  York  and 
Lancaster  gathers  force.  The  Duke  of  York  convinces 
the  powerful  earls  of  Warwick  and  Sahsbury  of  his 
right  to  the  crown. 

III.  Gloucester  answers  the  summons  and  appears 
before  Parliament.  He  is  accused  of  high  treason  and 
committed  to  prison,  and  since  his  accusers  can  find  no 
evidence  to  support  their  charge  against  his  integrity, 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

he  is  foully  assassinated  by  direction  of  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk.  The  populace,  learning  of  the  deed,  are  driven 
to  desperation,  and  storm  the  palace,  demanding  the 
death  or  exile  of  Suffolk,  who  is  forthwith  banished,  and 
afterwards  is  slain  at  sea  by  pirates. 

The  powerless  monarch's  sway  is  marked  by  continued 
losses.  News  comes  of  the  loss  of  the  last  of  the  French 
territories.  Other  tidings  tell  of  an  uprising  in  Ireland. 
The  lords,  jealous  of  York's  power,  think  to  be  rid  of 
him  by  sending  him  against  the  Irish.  York,  however, 
is  glad  of  the  pretext  to  muster  an  army;  and  before  he 
sets  sail  he  incites  a  rebellion  at  home  under  Jack  Cade, 
a  Kentish  labourer. 

IV.  After  meeting  with  one  or  two  small  successes, 
seizing  London  Bridge,  and  entering  the  city,  Cade's 
forces  are  dispersed  by  the  royal  troops.  The  populace 
renew  allegiance  to  the  King,  and  sue  for  pardon, 
which  is  granted.  But  a  price  is  placed  on  the  head  of 
the  fugitive  Cade,  and  he  is  slain.  York's  connection 
with  this  rebellion  has  been  hidden;  but  upon  hearing 
of  its  outcome  he  returns  to  England  at  the  head  of  his 
army,  ostensibly  to  redress  private  wrongs,  though  really 
to  assist  his  claim  to  the  throne. 

V.  The  King  holds  parley  with  York  near  Black- 
heath,  but  the  conference  ends  in  open  defiance  on  the 
part  of  the  subject.  The  two  armies  meet  in  conflict 
on  the  field  of  Saint  Albans,  where  the  King,  who  nov.' 
represents  the  Lancastrians,  is  defeated  and  forced  to  fly 
towards  London.  The  victorious  York  and  Warwick 
resolve  to  march  rapidly  upon  the  capital. 

McSpadden  :  Shakespearian  Synopses. 

II. 

King  Henry. 

There  is  something  of  irony  in  the  scene  with  wliich 
the  second  part  of  Henry  VI.  opens.     Suffolk,  the  Lance- 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Comments 

lot  of  this  tragedy,  has  brought  from  France  the  Princess 
Margaret,  and  the  joy  of  the  blameless  King,  upon  re- 
ceiving, at  the  cost  of  two  hard-won  provinces,  this 
terrible  wife,  who  will  "  dandle  him  like  a  baby,"  has 
in  it  something  pitiable,  something  pathetic,  and  some- 
thing ludicrous.  The  relations  of  the  King  to  ^largaret 
throughout,  the  play  are  delicately  and  profoundly  con- 
ceived. He  clings  to  her  as  to  something  stronger  than 
himself;  he  dreads  her  as  a  boy  might  dread  some 
formidable  master: — 

Exeter.  Here  comes  the  Queen,  whose  looks  betray  her  anger : 

I  '11  steal  away. 
Henry.  And  so  will  I. 

Yet  through  his  own  freedom  from  passion  he  derives  a 
sense  of  superiority  to  his  wife;  and  after  she  has  dashed 
him  all  over  with  the  spray  of  her  violent  anger  and  her 
scorn,  Henry  may  be  seen  mildly  wiping  away  the  drops, 
insufferably  placable,  offering  excuses  for  the  vituper- 
ation and  the  insults  which  he  has  received: — 

"  Poor  Queen,  how  love  to  me  and  to  her  son 
Hath  made  her  break  out  into  terms  of  rage !  " 

Among  his  "  wolfish  earls  "  Henry  is  in  constant  terror, 
not  of  being  himself  torn  to  pieces,  but  of  their  flying  at 
one  another's  throats.  Violent  scenes,  disturbing  the 
cloistral  peace  which  it  would  please  him  to  see  reign 
throughout  the  universe,  are  hateful  and  terrible  to  Henry. 
He  rides  out  hawking  with  his  Queen  and  Suffolk,  the 
Cardinal  and  Gloucester;  some  of  the  riders  hardly 
able  for  an  hour  to  conceal  their  emulation  and  their 
hate.  Henry  takes  a  languid  interest  in  the  sport,  but 
all  occasions  supply  food  for  his  contemplative  piety; 
he  suffers  from  a  certain  incontinence  of  devout  feeling, 
and  now  the  falcons  set  him  moralizing: — 

"  But  what  a  point,  my  lord,  your  falcon  made, 
And  what  a  pitch  she  flew  above  the  rest ! 
To  see  how  God  in  all  his  creatures  works !  " 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

A  moment  after  and  the  peers,  with  Margaret  among 
them,  are  bandying  furious  words.  Henry's  anguish  is 
extreme,  but  he  hopes  that  something  may  be  done  by  a 
few  moral  reflections  suitable  to  the  occasion: — 

I  pr'ythee,  peace, 
Good  Queen,  and  whet  not  on  these  furious  peers, 
For  blessed  are  the  peacemakers  on  earth. 
Cardinal.  Let  me  be  blessed  for  the  peace  I  make 
Against  this  proud  Protector  with  my  sword. 

The  angry  colloquy  is  presently  silenced  by  the  cry, 
"A  miracle!  a  miracle!"  and  the  impostor  Simcox  and 
his  wife  appear.  Henry,  with  his  fatuous  proclivity 
towards  the  edifying,  rejoices  in  this  manifestation  of 
God's  grace  in  the  restoration  to  sight  of  a  man  born 
blind:— 

"  Great  is  his  comfort  in  this  earthly  vale, 
Although  by  his  sight  his  sin  be  multiplied." 

(That  is  to  say,  "  If  we  had  the  good-fortune  to  be  de- 
prived of  all  our  senses  and  appetites,  we  should  have 
a  fair  chance  of  being  quite  spotless;  yet  let  us  thank 
God  for  his  mysterious  goodness  to  this  man!  ")  And 
once  more,  when  the  Protector,  by  a  slight  exercise  of 
shrewdness  and  common  sense,  has  unmasked  the  rogue 
and  has  had  him  whipped,  extreme  is  the  anguish  of  the 
King:— 

K.  Henry.  O  God!  seest  thou  this,  and  bearest  so  long? 
Queen.  It  made,  me  laugh  to  see  the  villain  run. 

But  the  feeble  saint,  who  is  cast  down  upon  the  occur- 
rence of  a  piece  of  vulgar  knavery,  can  himself  abandon 
to  butchers  the  noblest  life  in  England.  His  conscience 
assures  him  that  Gloucester  is  innocent ;  he  hopes  the 
Duke  will  be  able  to  clear  himself  ;  but  Gloucester's  judges 
are  Suffolk,  "  with  his  cloudy  brow,"  sharp  Buckingham, 

"  And  dogged  York,  that  reaches  at  the  moon." 

Henry  is  not  equal  to  confronting  such  terrible  faces  as 
these;    and  so,  trusting  to  God,  who  will  do  all  things 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Comments 

well,  he  slinks  out  of  the  Parliament  shedding  tears,  and 
leaves  Gloucester  to  his  fate: — 

"  My  lords,  what  to  your  wisdom  seemeth  best, 
Do,  or  undo,  as  if  ourself  were  here." 

When  Henry  hears  that  his  uncle  is  dead,  he  swoons; 
he  suspects  that  the  noble  old  man  has  been  foully  dealt 
with;  but  judgement  belongs  to  God;  possibly  his  sus- 
picion may  be  a  false  one;  how  terrible  if  he  should 
sully  his  purity  of  heart  with  a  false  suspicion!  may  God 
forgive  him  if  he  do  so!  And  thus  humouring  his  tim- 
orous, irritable  conscience,  Henry  is  incapable  of  action, 
and  allows  things  to  take  their  course. 

DowDEN :  Shakspere, 

III. 

Margaret. 

As  regards  the  conception  of  the  character  of  the 
Queen  which  is  first  revealed  to  us  in  this  part,  some 
commentators  have  blamed  Shakspeare  for  having  un- 
necessarily made  her  a  hideous  Megaera,  and  maintain 
it  to  be  especially  intolerable  to  see  the  pious,  unfortunate 
King  so  openly  represented  as  a  deceived  husband.  It 
is  certainly  true  that  in  Margaret's  character  we  still  have 
the  echo  of  those  gloomy  sounds  of  the  horrible  which 
in  Titus  Andronicus  we  had  in  the  fullest  reverberations, 
and  this  again  proves  with  tolerable  certainty  that  the 
two  last  parts  of  Henry  VI.  likewise  belong  to  Shak- 
speare's  earlier  works.  It  is  also  true  that  adultery 
did  not  require  to  be  added  to  the  other  crimes  of  the 
Queen.  And  yet  without  it  we  should  not  have  received 
such  a  perfect  insight  into  her  character,  which  is  so 
important  for  the  whole  play.  For  it  is  self-evident  that 
such  an  energetic,  violent  and  thoroughly  unfeminine 
nature,  with  such  passionateness  and  heat  of  temper, 
could  not  have  had  any  affection  for  the  cold,  unmanly 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

and  effeminate  King,  or  have  remained  faithful  to  him. 
Hence  even  though  liistory  has  not  expressly  told  us  of 
it — however,  if  not  mentioned  by  Holinshed  (as  Gervinus 
says)  it  is  expressly  stated  in  Grafton's  (Hall's)  Chron- 
icle— the  Poet  at  all  events  could  not  be  silent  on  a 
subject,  which,  as  a  matter  of  consistency,  was  demanded 
by  history.  Aloreover,  this  terrible  energy  and  enor- 
mity, this  shameless  display  of  evil,  such  as  is  here  ex- 
hibited in  a  woman,  is  no  doubt  more  dramatic,  nay  the 
very  representation  of  it  is  more  moral  than  the  secret 
sin  which  creeps  along  in  darkness,  and  the  unexpressed 
suspicion  of  which  must  be  entertained  by  the  spectators. 
In  fact,  the  Poet  required  an  embodiment  of  the  pre- 
vailing vices  and  crimes,  a  character  in  which  was  con- 
centrated the  whole  demoralisation  of  the  age,  in  order 
to  give  a  description  of  the  times,  and  to  unfold  the  mean- 
ing and  significance  of  his  drama  in  the  fullest  manner. 
Ulrici  :  Shakspcare's  Dramatic  Art. 


Among  the  arguments  against  the  authenticity  of  these 
plays  [the  three  parts  of  Henry  TV.],  the  character  of 
Margaret  of  Anjou  has  not  been  adduced,  and  yet  to 
those  who  have  studied  Shakspeare  in  his  own  spirit,  it 
will  appear  the  most  conclusive  of  all.  When  we  com- 
pare her  with  his  other  female  characters,  we  are  struck 
at  once  by  the  want  of  family  likeness;  Shakspeare  was 
not  always  equal,  but  he  had  not  two  manners,  as  they 
say  of  painters.  I  discern  his  hand  in  particular  parts, 
but  I  cannot  recognize  his  spirit  in  the  conception  of 
the  whole:  he  may  have  laid  on  some  of  the  colours, 
but  the  original  design  has  a  certain  hardness  and  heavi- 
ness, very  unlike  his  usual  style.  Margaret  of  Anjou, 
as  exhibited  in  these  tragedies,  is  a  dramatic  portrait  of 
considerable  truth,  and  vigour,  and  consistency — but  she 
is  not  one  of  Shakspeare's  women.  He  who  knew  so 
well  in  what  true  greatness  of  spirit  consisted — who 
could  excite  our  respect  and  sympathy  even  for  a  Lady 

6 


KING  HENRY  VL  Comments 

Macbeth,  would  never  have  given  us  a  heroine  without 
a  touch  of  heroism;  he  would  not  have  portrayed  a  high- 
hearted woman,  struggling  unsubdued  against  the 
strangest  vicissitudes  of  fortune,  meeting  reverses  and 
disasters,  such  as  would  have  broken  the  most  masculine 
spirit,  with  unshaken  constancy,  yet  left  her  without 
a  single  personal  quality  which  could  excite  our  interest 
in  her  bravely  endured  misfortunes;  and  this  too  in  the 
very  face  of  history.  He  would  not  have  given  us,  in 
lieu  of  the  magnanimous  queen,  the  subtle  and  accom- 
plished French  woman,  a  mere  "  Amazonian  trull,"  with 
every  coarser  feature  of  depravity  and  ferocity ;  he 
would  have  redeemed  her  from  unmingled  detestation; 
he  would  have  breathed  into  her  some  of  his  own  sweet 
spirit — he  would  have  given  the  woman  a  soul. 

The  old  chronicler  Hall  informs  us,  that  Queen  Mar- 
garet "  excelled  all  other  as  well  in  beauty  and  favour, 
as  in  wit  and  policy,  and  was  in  stomach  and  courage 
more  like  to  a  man  than  to  a  woman."  He  adds  that, 
after  the  espousals  of  Henry  and  Margaret,  "  the  King's 
friends  fell  from  him;  the  lords  of  the  realm  fell  in  di- 
vision among  themselves  ;  the  Commons  rebelled  against 
their  natural  prince;  fields  were  foughten;  many  thou- 
sands slain;  and,  finally,  the  king  was  deposed,  and  his 
son  slain,  and  his  queen  sent  home  again  with  as  much 
misery  and  sorrow  as  she  was  received  with  pomp  and 
triumph." 

This  passage  seems  to  have  furnished  the  ground- 
work of  the  character  as  it  is  developed  in  these  plays 
with  no  great  depth  or  skill.  Margaret  is  portrayed 
with  all  the  exterior  graces  of  her  sex;  as  bold  and 
artful,  with  spirit  to  dare,  resolution  to  act,  and  fortitude 
to  endure ;  but  treacherous,  haughty,  dissembling,  vindic- 
tive, and  fierce.  The  bloody  struggle  for  power  in  which 
she  was  engaged,  and  the  companionship  of  the  ruthless 
iron  men  around  her,  seem  to  have  left  her  noth- 
ing of  womanhood  but  the  heart  of  a  mother — that  last 
stronghold  of  our  feminine  nature!     So  far  the  character 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

is  consistently  drawn :  it  has  something  of  the  power, 
but  none  of  the  flowing  ease,  of  Shakspeare's  manner. 
There  are  fine  materials  not  well  appHed;  there  is  poetry 
in  some  of  the  scenes  and  speeches;  the  situations  are 
often  exceedingly  poetical;  but  in  the  character  of  Mar- 
garet herself  there  is  not  an  atom  of  poetry.  In  her 
artificial  dignity,  her  plausible  wit,  and  her  endless  vol- 
ubility, she  would  remind  us  of  some  of  the  most  admired 
heroines  of  French  tragedy,  but  for  that  unlucky  box 
on  the  ear  which  she  gives  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester — a 
violation  of  tragic  decorum,  which  of  course  destroys  all 
parallel. 

Having  said  thus  much,  I  shall  point  out  some  of  the 
finest  and  most  characteristic  scenes  in  which  Margaret 
appears.  The  speech  in  which  she  expresses  her  scorn 
of  her  meek  husband,  and  her  impatience  of  the  power 
exercised  by  those  fierce,  overbearing  barons,  York, 
Salisbury,  Warwick,  Buckingham,  is  very  fine,  and  con- 
veys as  faithful  an  idea  of  those  feudal  times  as  of  the 
woman  who  speaks.  The  burst  of  female  spite  with 
which  she  concludes,  is  admirable : — 

Not  all  these  lords  do  vex  me  half  so  much 

As  that  proud  dame,  the  Lord  Protector's  wife. 

She  sweeps  it  through  the  court  with  troops  of  ladies, 

More  like  an  empress  than  Duke  Humphrey's  wife. 

Strangers  in  court  do  take  her  for  the  queen : 

She  bears  a  duke's  revenues  on  her  back, 

And  in  her  heart  she  scorns  our  poverty. 

Shall  I  not  live  to  be  aveng'd  on  her? 

Contemptuous  base-born  callat  as  she  is, 

She  vaunted  'mongst  her  minions  t'other  day, 

The  very  train  of  her  worst  wearing  gown 

Was  better  worth  than  all  my  father's  lands 

Till  Suffolk  gave  two  dukedoms  for  his  daughter. 

Her  intriguing  spirit,  the  facility  with  which  she  enters 
into  the  murderous  confederacy  ag'ainst  the  good  Duke 
Humphrey,  the  artful  plausibility  with  which  she  en- 
deavours to  turn  suspicion  from  herself — confounding 

8 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Comments 

her  gentle  consort  by  mere  dint  of  words — are  exceed- 
ingly characteristic,  but  not  the  less  revolting. 

Her  criminal  love  for  Suffolk  (which  is  a  dramatic  in- 
cident, not  an  historic  fact)  gives  rise  to  the  beautiful 
parting  scene  in  the  third  act;  a  scene  which  it  is  im- 
possible to  read  without  a  thrill  of  emotion,  hurried 
away  by  that  power  and  pathos  which  forces  us  to  sym- 
pathize with  the  eloquence  of  grief,  yet  excites  not  a 
momentary  interest  either  for  iNIargaret  or  her  lover. 
The  ungoverned  fury  of  Margaret  in  the  first  instance, 
the  manner  in  which  she  calls  on  Sufifolk  to  curse  his 
enemies,  and  then  shrinks  back  overcome  by  the  violence 
of  the  spirit  she  had  herself  evoked,  and  terrified  by  the 
vehemence  of  his  imprecations;  the  transition  in  her 
mind  from  the  extremity  of  rage  to  tears  and  melting 
fondness,  have  been  pronounced,  and  justly,  to  be  in 
Shakspeare's  own  manner: — 

Go,  speak  not  to  me — even  now  begone. 

O  go  not  yet !     Even  thus  two  friends  condemn'd 

Embrace,  and  kiss,  and  take  ten  thousand  leaves, 

Loather  a  hundred  times  to  part  than  die : 

Yet  now  farewell ;  and  farewell  life  with  thee ! 

which  is  followed  by  that  beautiful  and  intense  burst  of 
passion  from  Sufifolk — 

'Tis  not  the  land  I  care  for,  wert  thou  thence; 

A  wilderness  is  populous  enough, 

So  Suffolk  had  thy  heavenly  company : 

For  where  thou  art,  there  is  the  world  itself, 

With  every  several  pleasure  in  the  world. 

And  where  thou  art  not,  desolation. 

Mrs.  Jameson  :  Characteristics  of  Women. 

IV. 
The  Cade  Scenes. 

That  insurrection  comes  in  aptly  as  the  first  outbreak 
of  the  great   social  schism,   the  elements  of  which  had 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

been  long  working  in  secret,  and  growing  to  a  head. 
The  passages  of  humour,  interspersed  through  the  scenes 
of  Cade  and  his  followers,  being  mostly  the  same  in  the 
original  form  of  the  play,  yield  strong  evidence  in  the 
question  of  authorship.  It  seems  hard  to  believe  that 
any  one  but  Shakespeare  could  have  written  them,  no 
instances  in  that  line  at  all  approaching  these  having 
been  elsewhere  given  by  any  other  writer  of  that  time. 
For  in  poetry  merely,  Shakespeare,  though  immeasurably 
above  any  or  all  of  his  senior  contemporaries,  differs 
from  them  but  in  degree;  but  in  the  article  of  humour 
he  shows  a  difference  from  them  in  kind.  And  it  is 
remarkable  that  the  instinct  and  impulse  of  humour  seem 
in  this  case  to  have  put  him  upon  blending  together  the 
elements  of  two  widely-separated  passages  of  history: 
the  persons  and  events  being  those  of  the  insurrection 
known  as  Jack  Cade's;  while  the  sentiments  and  de- 
signs are  the  same,  in  part,  which  became  matter  of 
history  some  seventy  years  before  in  the  rebellion  of 
Wat  Tyler  and  Jack  Straw.  This  curious  fact  was  first 
pointed  out  by  Mr.  Courtenay,  who  cites  the  following 
from  Holinshed's  account  of  the  earlier  insurrection: 
''  They  began  to  show  proof  of  those  things  which  they 
had  before  conceived  in  their  minds — beheading  all  such 
men  of  law  as  they  might  catch,  alleging  that  the  land 
could  never  enjoy  her  true  liberty  till  all  those  sorts 
of  people  were  despatched  out  of  the  way.  This  talk 
liked  well  the  ears  of  the  common  people,  and  they  pur- 
posed to  burn  and  destroy  all  records,  evidences,  court- 
rolls,  and  other  monuments,  that  their  landlords  might 
not  have  whereby  to  challenge  any  right  at  their  hands. 
What  wickedness  was  it,  to  compel  teachers  of  children  in 
grammar  schools  to  swear  never  to  instruct  any  in  this 
art!  For  it  was  dangerous  among  them  to  be  known 
for  one  that  was  learned;  and  more  dangerous,  if  any 
one  were  found  with  a  penner  and  ink-horn  at  his  side. 
At  Blackheath,  when  the  greatest  multitude  was  there 

10 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Comments 

got  together,  John  Ball  made  a  sermon,  taking  this  sav- 
ing for  his  theme: — 

'  When  Adam  delv'd  and  Eve  span, 
Who  was  then  a  gentleman?  '  " 

Hl'dsox  :   Tlic  JVorks  of  Shakespeare. 

The  forcible  realism,  the  simple  vigour  and  lifehke 
luimour  of  these  scenes,  cannot,  it  is  urged,  be  due  to 
any  other  [than  Shakespeare]  so  early  at  work  in  the 
field  of  comedy.  A  critic  desirous  to  press  this  point 
might  further  insist  on  the  likeness  or  identity  of  tone 
between  these  and  all  later  scenes  in  which  Shake- 
speare has  taken  on  him  to  paint  the  action  and  passion 
of  an  insurgent  populace.  With  him,  it  might  too  plau- 
sibly be  argued,  the  people  once  risen  in  revolt  for  any 
just  or  unjust  cause  is  always  the  mob,  the  unwashed 
rabble,  the  swinish  multitude;  full  as  he  is  of  wise  and 
gracious  tenderness  for  individual  character,  of  swift 
and  ardent  pity  for  personal  suffering,  he  has  no  deeper 
or  finer  feeling  than  scorn  for  "  the  beast  with  many 
heads  "  that  fawn  and  butt  at  bidding  as  they  are  swayed 
by  the  vain  and  violent  breath  of  any  worthless  herds- 
man. For  the  drovers  who  guide  and  misguide  at  will 
the  turbulent  flocks  of  their  mutinous  cattle  his  store 
of  bitter  words  is  inexhaustible;  it  is  a  treasure-house  of 
oblocjuy  which  can  never  be  drained  dry. 

Swinburne  :  A  Study  of  Shakespeare, 


I  cannot  persuade  myself  that  these  [Cade  scenes] 
were  not  from  the  very  first  the  work  of  Shakespeare. 
It  is  evident  that  they  cannot  proceed  from  the  pen  of 
I^Iarlowe.  An  attempt  has  been  made  to  attribute  them 
to  Greene,  on  the  ground  that  there  are  other  folk-scenes 
in  his  works  which  display  a  similar  strain  of  humour. 
But  the  difiference  is  enormous.  It  is  true  that  the  text 
here  follows  the  chronicle  with  extraordinary  fidelity; 
but  it  was  precisely  in  this  ingenious  adaptation  of  mate- 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

rial  that  Shakespeare  always  showed  his  strength.  And 
these  scenes  answer  so  completely  to  all  the  other  folk- 
scenes  in  Shakespeare,  and  are  so  obviously  the  outcome 
of  the  habit  of  political  thought  which  runs  through  his 
whole  life,  becoming  ever  more  and  more  pronounced, 
that  we  cannot  possibly  accept  them  as  showing  only 
the  trivial  alterations  and  retouches  which  elsewhere 
distinguish  his  text  from  the  older  version. 

Brandes  :  William  Shakespeare. 

V. 

The  Enveloping  Nemesis. 

The  subject  of  the  second  part  of  Henry  VI.  is  the 
progress  of  disorder  in  the  country  consequent  on  the 
weak  character  of  the  King,  his  want  of  every  spark  of 
kingly,  national  or  even  manly  spirit.  Of  a  devout  ten- 
dency, his  religious  feelings  have  not  the  energy  to  rise 
from  a  pious  ejaculation  to  a  fervent  prayer,  still  less 
to  stimulate  a  really  conscientious  action.  Selfishly  and 
imprudently  he  married  Margaret  to  gratify  a  passion 
foolishly  adopted  at  second  hand,  and  makes  no  effort 
to  control  a  wife  whose  vague  animosities  hurry  him  to 
destruction  ;  he  deserts  Gloucester  in  base  cravenhearted- 
ness,  and  when  he  is  murdered  almost  under  his  eyes, 
banishes  the  murderer  Suffolk  only  when  compelled  by 
the  indignant  outbreak  of  the  commons,  and  then  from 
no  higher  motive  than  apprehension  of  consequences 
to  himself.  Afterwards  he  is  as  ready  to  purchase  his 
own  tranquillity  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  rights  of  his  son  ; 
and  thus  on  the  strength  of  harmlessness  and  freedom 
from  active  vice,  he  brings  the  country  into  civil  war,  and 
takes  rank  as  a  saint.  The  character  of  Gloucester  is 
finely  contrasted  with  that  of  the  King :  he  has  a  reputa- 
tion for  goodness — the  good  Duke  Humphrey,  as  the 
King  for  saintship ;  and  his  goodness,  though  of  more 
genuine  quality,  is  at  the  last  as  nugatory  from  like  defect 

12 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Comments 

of  energy.  He  laments  the  base  forfeiture  of  national 
honour,  that  never  gives  the  King  concern,  yet  does 
nothing  worthy  of  his  position  to  save  it,  is  utterly  inca- 
pable of  coping  with  the  ill-conditioned  Cardinal,  and 
descends  to  a  useless  and  degrading  brawl,  and  is  at  last 
his  victim,  and  is  as  unable  to  rule,  or  guide,  or  protect 
his  wife,  as  Henry  himself.  Such  a  pretence  of  govern- 
ment is  entirely  out  of  harmony  with  the  genius  of  the 
country  both  in  commonalty  and  nobility,  and  both 
classes  become  agitated  sympathetically.  The  men  of 
Kent  are  represented  as  rising  in  disgust  and  contempt 
for  the  ordinance  of  a  bookish  priestlike  king  and  coun- 
sellors, who  acquiesce  in  the  loss  of  conquests  of  a  bolder 
monarch;  and  a  powerful  confederacy  of  nobles  lends 
aid  to  the  claimant  of  the  throne  by  the  elder  line,  who 
certainly  possesses  many  qualities  that  are  more  worthy 
of  power,  though  as  usual  in  history  they  can  only  com- 
mand power  through  violence  and  fraud,  that  bring  on 
a  Nemesis  behind  them.  The  crown  that  came  to  the 
line  of  Lancaster,  through  the  dissolute  misgovernment 
of  Richard  H.  falls  from  it  again  through  the  misgovern- 
ment of  the  factitious  piety  of  an  enervate  devotee. 
Lloyd  :  Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare. 

VI. 

A  Great  Advance. 

The  second  part  of  Henry  VI.  is  manifestly  a  great 
advance  upon  the  first,  and  that  in  nearly  all  the  par- 
ticulars of  dramatic  excellence.  The  several  members 
are  well  knit  together;  the  characterization  is  bold,  but, 
in  the  main,  firm  and  steady;  the  action  clear,  free,  and 
generally  carried  on  in  that  consecutiveness  that  every 
later  part  seems  the  natural  growth  and  issue  of  what 
had  gone  before^  Much  of  this  superiority,  no  doubt, 
was  owing  to  the  nature  of  the  materials,  which,  besides 
yielding  a  greater  variety  of  interest,  were  of  themselves 

13 


Comments  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

more  limber  and  pliant  to  the  shaping  of  art,  and  pre- 
sented less  to  distract  and  baffle  the  powers  of  dramatic 
assortment  and  composition.  The  losses  in  France 
having  been  despatched  in  the  former  play,  nothing  of 
them  remained  for  the  Poet's  use,  but  the  domestic  irrita- 
tions they  had  engendered;  which  irritations  were  as  so 
many  eggs  of  discord  in  the  nest  of  Enghsh  life,  and 
Queen  Margaret  the  hot-breasted  fury  that  hatched 
them  into  effect.  The  hatching  process  is  the  main  sub- 
ject of  this  play,  and  to  that  end  the  representation  is 
ordered  with  considerable  skill. 

Hudson  :  The  Works  of  Shakespeare. 

VII. 

Shakespeare  and  Others, 

In  the  earliest  form  known  to  us  of  this  play  It  should 
seem  that  we  have  traces  of  Shakespeare's  handiwork, 
in  the  latest  that  we  find  evidence  of  Marlowe's.  But 
it  would  be  something  too  extravagant  for  the  veriest 
wind-sucker  among  commentators  to  start  a  theory 
that  a  revision  was  made  of  his  original  work  by  Marlowe 
after  additions  had  been  made  to  it  by  Shakespeare; 
yet  .  .  .  the  most  unmistakable  signs  of  Marlowe's 
handiwork,  the  passages  which  show  most  plainly  the 
personal  and  present  seal  of  his  genius,  belong  to  the 
play  only  in  its  revised  form. 

Swinburne  :  A  Study  of  Shakespeare. 


There  is  on  the  whole  no  difficulty  in  distinguishing 
the  work  of  other  hands  in  the  old  texts.  We  can  en- 
joy, point  by  point,  not  only  Shakespeare's  superiority, 
but  his  peculiar  style,  as  we  here  find  it  in  the  very  proc- 
ess of  development;  and  we  can  study  his  whole  method 
of  work  in  the  text  which  he  ultimately  produces. 

We  have  here  an  almost  unique  opportunity  of  ob- 
serving him  in  the  character  of  a  critical  artist.     We  see 

14 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Comments 

what  improvements  he  makes  by  a  trivial  retouch,  or 
a  mere  rearrangement  of  words.  Thus,  when  Gloucester 
says  of  his  wife  (11.  iv.) — 

"  Uneath  may  she  endure  the  flinty  streets. 
To  tread  them  with  her  tender-feeling  feet," 

all  his  sympathy  speaks  in  these  words.  In  the  old  text 
it  is  she  who  says  this  of  herself.  In  York's  great  so- 
liloquy in  the  first  act,  beginning  "Anjou  and  Elaine  are 
given  to  the  French,"  the  first  twenty-four  lines  are 
Shakespeare's;  the  rest  belong  to  the  old  text.  From 
the  second  ''Anjou  and  Maine"  onwards,  the  verse  is 
conventional  and  monotonous;  the  meaning  ends  with 
the  end  of  each  line,  and  a  pause,  as  it  w^ere,  ensues; 
whereas  the  verse  of  the  opening  passage  is  full  of  dra- 
matic movement,  life,  and  fire. 

Braxdes  :   JVilliain  Shakespeare. 


It  is  unwise  to  go  beyond  the  extremely  strong  pre- 
sumption that  Alarlowe,  at  one  point  or  other  in  the 
development  of  the  play,  impressed  his  genius  on  the 
materials  and  helped  to  give  them  their  present  shape. 
The  characters  of  Margaret,  of  Suffolk,  of  York,  of  Rich- 
ard, perhaps  owe  as  much  in  execution  to  Shakespeare's 
dramatic  grip  as  to  Marlowe's  fiery  rhetoric;  but  their 
first  conception  was  alm.ost  certainly  Alarlowe's.  The 
boldness  with  which  the  portentous  figure  of  Richard  is 
made  to  dominate  the  entire  latter  half  of  the  action  in 
defiance  of  chronology  and  of  his  traditional  character  is 
in  keeping  with  the  splendid  lawlessness  of  Marlowe  in 
his  dealings  with  history.  Above  all,  Marlowe  must 
be  credited  with  the  powerful  tragic  motive  of  Suffolk's 
intrigue  w^ith  the  Queen,  of  which  Holinshed  says  no 
word.  To  Shakespeare  such  a  situation  was  at  all  times 
unattractive;  but  the  recent  painter  of  the  guilty  loves 
of  Isabel  the  queen  and  young  Mortimer  was  keenly 
alive  to  its  tragic  force. 

Herford:  The  Eversley  Shakespeare. 

15 


DRAMATIS   PERSONAE. 

King  Henry  tiie  Sixth. 

Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  his  uncle. 

Cardinal   Beaufort,   Bishop    of   Winchester,  great-uncle   tu 

the  King. 
Richard  Plantagenet,  Duke  of  York. 
Edward  and  Richard,  his  sons. 
Duke  of  Somerset. 
Duke  of  Suffolk. 
Duke  of  Buckingham. 
Lord  Clifford. 
Young  Clifford,  his  son. 
Earl  of  Salisbury. 
Earl  of  Warwick. 
Lord  Scales. 
Lord  Say. 

Sir  Humphrey  Stafford  and  William  Stafford,  his  brother. 
Sir  John  Stanley, 
Vaux. 

Matthew  Goffe. 
A    Sea-captain,    Master,    and    Master's-Mate,    and    Walter 

Whitmore. 
Two  Gentlemen,  prisoners  with  Suffolk. 
John  Hume  and  John  Southwell,  priests. 
BoLiNGBROKE,  a  conjurcr. 

Thomas  Horner,  an  armourer.     Peter,  his  man. 
Clerk  of  Chatham.     Mayor  of  Saint  Alban's. 
Simpcox,  an  impostor. 
Alexander  Iden,  a  Kentish  gentleman. 
Jack  Cade,  a  rebel. 
George  Bevis,  John  Holland,  Dick  the  butcher.  Smith  the 

zveaver,  Michael,  etc.,  followers  of  Cade. 
Two  Murderers. 

Margaret,  Queen  to  King  Henry. 
Eleanor,  Duchess  of  Gloucester. 
Margaret  Jourdain,  a  zvitch. 
Wife  to  Simpcox. 

Lords,  Ladies,  and  Attendants,  Petitioners,  Aldermen,  a  Her- 
ald, a  Beadle,  Sheriff,  and  Ofificers,  Citizens,  'Prentices. 
Falconers,  Guards,  Soldiers,  Messengers,  etc. 

A  Spirit. 

Scene:  England. 

i6 


The  Second  Part  of 

KING  HENRY  VI. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

London.     The  palace. 

Flourish  of  trumpets:  then  hautboys.  Enter,  the  King, 
Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  Salisbury,  Warzvick, 
and  Cardinal  Beaufort,  on  the  one  side ;  The  Queen, 
Suffolk,  York,  Somerset,  and  Buckingham,  on  the 
other. 

Suf.  As  by  your  high  imperial  majesty 

I  had  in  charge  at  my  depart  for  France, 

As  procurator  to  your  excellence, 

To  marry  Princess  Margaret  for  your  grace. 

So,  in  the  famous  ancient  city  Tours, 

In  presence  of  the  Kings  of  France  and  Sicil,  ' 

The    Dukes    of    Orleans,    Calaber,     Bretagne    and 

Alencon, 
Seven    earls,    twelve    barons,    and    twenty    reverend 

bishops, 
I  have  perform'd  my  task  and  was  espoused ; 
And  humbly  now  upon  my  bended  knee,  lo 

In  sight  of  England  and  her  lorldly  peers, 
Deliver  up  my  title  in  the  queen 

To  your  most  gracious  hands,  that  are  the  substance 
Of  that  great  shadow  I  did  represent ; 

17 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

The  happiest  gift  that  ever  marquess  gave, 
The  fairest  queen  that  ever  king  received. 

King.  Suffolk,  arise.     \\' elcome,  Queen  Margaret : 
I  can  express  no  kinder  sign  of  love 
Than  this  kind  kiss.     O  Lord,  that  lends  me  life, 
Lend  me  a  heart  replete  with  thankfulness !  20 

For  thou  hast  given  me  in  this  beauteous  face 
A  world  of  earthly  blessings  to  my  soul, 
If  sympathy  of  love  unite  our  thoughts. 

Queen.  Great  King  of  England  and  my  gracious  lord, 
The  mutual  conference  that  my  mind  hath  had. 
By  day,  by  night,  waking  and  in  my  dreams. 
In  courtly  company  or  at  my  beads. 
With  you,  mine  alder-liefest  sovereign, 
Makes  me  the  bolder  to  salute  my  king 
With  ruder  terms,  such  as  my  wit  affords  30 

And  over- joy  of  heart  doth  minister. 

King.  Her  sight  did  ravish  ;  but  her  grace  in  speech, 
Her  words  y-clad  with  wisdom's  majesty. 
Makes  me  from  wondering  fall  to  weeping  joys ; 
Such  is  the  fulness  of  my  heart's  content. 
Lords,  with  one  cheerful  voice  welcome  my  love. 

All    [kneeling].   Long  live   Queen   ^largaret,    England's 
happiness ! 

Queen.  We  thank  you  all.  [Flourish. 

Snf.  My  lord  protector,  so  it  please  your  grace, 

Here  are  the  articles  of  contracted  peace  40 

Between  our  sovereign  and  the  French  king  Charles, 
For  eighteen  months  concluded  by  consent. 

Glou.  [Reads]  '  Imprimis,  It  is  agreed  between  the 
French  king  Charles  and  William  de  la  Pole, 
Marquess  of  Suffolk,  ambassador  for  Henry  King 

18 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

of  England,  that  the  said  Henry  shall  espouse 
the  Lady  Margaret,  daughter  unto  Reignier  King 
of  Naples,  Sicilia  and  Jerusalem,  and  crown  her 
Queen  of  England  ere  the  thirtieth  of  May  next 
ensuing.  Item,  that  the  duchy  of  Anjou  and  the  50 
county  of  Maine  shall  be  released  and  delivered 
to  the  king  her  father — ' 

[Lets  the  paper  fall. 

King,  Uncle,  how  now  ! 

Glou.  Pardon  me,  gracious  lord  ; 

Some  sudden  qualm  hath  struck  me  at  the  heart, 
And  dimm'd  mine  eyes,  that  I  can  read  no  further. 

Ki]ig.  Uncle  of  Winchester,  I  pray,  read  on. 

Car.  [Reads]  '  Item,  It  is  further  agreed  between 
them,  that  the  duchies  of  Anjou  and  Maine 
shall  be  released  and  dehvered  over  to  the  king 
her  father,  and  she  sent  over  of  the  King  of  60 
England's  own  proper  cost  and  charges,  with- 
out having  any  dowry.' 

King.  They  please  us  well.     Lord  marquess,  kneel  down  : 
We  here  create  thee  the  first  duke  of  vSuffolk, 
And  gird  the  with  the  sword.     Cousin  of  York, 
We  here  discharge  your  grace  from  being  rep^ent 
r  the  parts  of  France,  till  term  of  eighteen  months 
Be  full  expired.     Thanks,  uncle  Winchester, 
Gloucester,  York,  Buckingham,  Somerset, 
Salisbury,  and  Warwick  ;  70 

We  thank  you  all  for  this  great  favour  done, 
In  entertainment  to  my  princely  queen. 
Come,  let  us  in,  and  with  all  speed  provide 
To  see  her  coronation  be  perform'd. 

[Exeunt  King,  Queen,  and  Suffolk. 

Clou.  Brave  peers  of  England,  pillars  of  the  state, 

19 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

To  you  Duke  Humphrey  must  unload  his  grief, 

Your  grief,  the  common  grief  of  all  the  land. 

What !   did  my  brother  Henry  spend  his  youth. 

His  valour,  coin,  and  people,  in  the  wars? 

Did  he  so  often  lodge  in  open  field,  80 

In  winter's  cold  and  summer's  parching  heat, 

To  conquer  France,  his  true  inheritance? 

And  did  my  brother  Bedford  toil  his  wits. 

To  keep  by  policy  what  Henry  got  ? 

Have  you  yourselves,  Somerset,  Buckingham, 

Brave  York,  Salisbury,  and  victorious  Warwick, 

Received  deep  scars  in  France  and  Normandy? 

Or  hath  mine  uncle  Beaufort  and  myself. 

With  all  the  learned  council  of  the  realm, 

Studied  so  long,  sat  in  the  council-house  90 

Early  and  late,  debating  to  and  fro 

How  France  and  Frenchmen  might  be  kept  in  awe. 

And  had  his  highness  in  his  infancy 

Crowned  in  Paris  in  despite  of  foes? 

And  shall  these  labours  and  these  honours  die? 

Shall  Henry's  conquest,  Bedford's  vigilance. 

Your  deeds  of  war  and  all  our  counsel  die? 

O  peers  of  England,  shameful  is  this  league ! 

Fatal  this  marriage,  cancelling  your  fame, 

Blotting  your  names  from  books  of  memory,         100 

Razing  the  characters  of  your  renown. 

Defacing  monuments  of  conquer'd  France, 

Undoing  all,  as  all  had  never  been ! 

Car.   Nephew,  what  means  this  passionate  discourse. 
This  peroration  with  such  circumstance  ? 
For  France,  'tis  ours ;   and  we  will  keep  it  still. 

Clou.  Ay,  uncle,  we  will  keep  it,  if  we  can; 

20 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  1.  Sc.  i. 

But  now  it  is  impossible  we  should : 
Suffolk,  the  new-made  duke  that  rules  the  roast, 
Hath  given  the  duchy  of  Anjou  and  Maine  no 

Unto  the  poor  King  Reignier,  whose  large  style 
Agrees  not  with  the  leanness  of  his  purse. 

Sal.  Now,  by  the  death  of  Him  that  died  for  all. 
These  counties  were  the  keys  of  Normandy. 
But  wherefore  weeps  Warwick,  my  valiant  son  ? 

War.  For  grief  that  they  are  past  recovery  : 

For,  were  there  hope  to  conquer  them  again, 

My  sword  should  shed  hot  blood,  mine  eyes  no  tears. 

Anjou  and  Maine!   myself  did  win  them  both ; 

Those  provinces  these  arms  of  mine  did  conquer : 

And  are  the  cities,  that  I  got  with  wounds,  121 

Deliver'd  up  again  with  peaceful  words  ? 

Mort  Dieu  ? 

York.  For  Suffolk's  duke,  may  he  be  suffocate. 
That  dims  the  honour  of  this  warlike  isle ! 
France  should  have  torn  and  rent  my  very  heart. 
Before  I  would  have  yielded  to  this  league. 
I  never  read  but  England's  kings  have  had 
Large  sums  of  gold  and  dowries  with  their  wives  ; 
And  our  King  Henry  gives  away  his  own,  130 

To  match  with  her  that  brings  no  vantages. 

Glou.  A  proper  jest,  and  never  heard  before. 

That  Suffolk  should  demand  a  whole  fifteenth 

For  costs  and  charges  in  transporting  her ! 

She  should    have  stay'd  in   France  and   starved   in 

France, 
Before — 

Car.  My  lord  of  Gloucester,  now  ye  grow  too  hot : 
It  was  the  pleasure  of  my  lord  the  king. 


Act  I.  3c.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Glou.  My  lord  of  Winchester,  I  know  your  mind ; 

'Tis  not  my  speeches  that  you  do  misHke,  140 

But  'tis  my  presence  that  doth  trouble  ye. 

Rancour  will  out :   proud  prelate,  in  thy  face 

I  see  thy  fury :   if  I  longer  stay. 

We  shall  begin  our  ancient  bickerings. 

Lordings,  farewell ;  and  say,  when  I  am  gone, 

I  prophesied  France  will  be  lost  ere  long.         [Exit. 

Car.   So,  there  goes  our  protector  in  a  rage. 
'Tis  known  to  you  he  is  mine  enemy, 
Nay,  more,  an  enemy  unto  you  all, 
And  no  great  friend,  I  fear  me,  to  the  king.  150 

Consider,  lords,  he  is  the  next  of  blood. 
And  heir  apparent  to  the  English  crown : 
Had  Henry  got  an  empire  by  his  marriage, 
And  all  the  wealthy  kingdoms  of  the  west, 
There  's  reason  he  should  be  displeased  at  it. 
Look  to  it,  lords ;   let  not  his  smoothing  words 
Bewitch  your  hearts ;   be  wise  and  circumspect. 
What  though  the  common  people  favour  him, 
Calling  him  '  Humphrey,  the  good  Duke  of  Glou- 
cester,' 
Clapping  their  hands,  and  crying  with  loud  voice, 
'  Jesu  maintain  your  royal  excellence!  '  161 

With  '  God  preserve  the  good  Duke  Humphrey !  ' 
I  fear  me,  lords,  for  all  this  flattering  gloss. 
He  will  be  found  a  dangerous  protector. 

Buck.  Why  should  he,  then,  protect  our  sovereign. 
He  being  of  age  to  govern  of  himself  ? 
Cousin  of  Somerset,  join  you  with  me, 
And  all  together,  with  the  Duke  of  Suffolk, 
We  '11  quickly  hoise  Duke  Humphrey  from  his  seat. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  LSc.  i. 

Car.  This  weighty  business  will  not  brook  delay;  170 

I  '11  to  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  presently.  [Exit. 

Som.  Cousin  of  Buckingham,  though  Humphrey's  pride 
And  greatness  of  his  place  be  grief  to  us, 
Yet  let  us  watch  the  haughty  cardinal : 
His  insolence  is  more  intolerable 
Than  all  the  princes  in  the  land  beside : 
If  Gloucester  be  displaced,  he  '11  be  protector. 

Buck.  Or  thou  or  I,  Somerset,  will  be  protector, 
Despite  Duke  Humphrey  or  the  cardinal. 

[EA'Cioif  Buckinghaui  and  Somerset. 

Sal.  Pride  went  before,  ambition  follows  him.  180 

While  these  do  labour  for  their  own  preferment, 
Behoves  it  us  to  labour  for  the  realm. 
I  never  saw  but  Humphrey  Duke  of  Gloucester 
Did  bear  him  like  a  noble  gentleman. 
Oft  have  I  seen  the  haughty  cardinal, 
More  like  a  soldier  than  a  man  o'  the  church, 
As  stout  and  proud  as  he  were  lord  of  all, 
Swear  like  a  ruffian,  and  demean  himself 
Unlike  the  ruler  of  a  commonweal. 
Warwick,  my  son,  the  comfort  of  my  age,  190 

Thy  deeds,  thy  plainness,  and  thy  housekeeping, 
Hath  won  the  greatest  favour  of  the  commons. 
Excepting  none  but  good  Duke  Humphrey : 
And,  brother  York,  thy  acts  in  Ireland, 
In  bringing  them  to  civil  discipline, 
Thy  late  exploits  done  in  the  heart  of  France, 
When  thou  wert  regent  for  our  sovereign, 
Have  made  thee  fear'd  and  honoured  of  the  people : 
Join  we  together,  for  the  public  good, 
In  what  we  can,  to  bridle  and  suppress  200 

22, 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

The  pride  of  Suffolk  and  the  cardinal, 
With  Somerset's  and  Buckingham's  ambition  ; 
And,  as  we  may,  cherish  Duke  Humphrey's  deeds, 
While  they  do  tend  the  profit  of  the  land. 

War.  So  God  help  Warwick,  as  he  loves  the  land. 
And  common  profit  of  his  country ! 

York.   [Aside]   And  so  says  York,  for  he  hath  greatest 
cause. 

Sal.  Then   let 's   make   haste   away,   and   look   unto   the 
main. 

War.  Unto  the  main  !    O  father,  Maine  is  lost ; 

That  Maine  which  by  main  force  Warwick  did  win, 
And  would  have  kept  so  long  as  breath  did  last !     211 
Main  chance,  father,  you  meant ;  but  I  meant  Maine, 
Which  I  will  win  from  France,  or  else  be  slain. 

[Exeunt  Warwick  and  Salisbury. 

York.  Anjou  and  Maine  are  given  to  the  French ; 
Paris  is  lost ;  the  state  of  Normandy 
Stands  on  a  tickle  point,  now  they  are  gone : 
Suffolk  concluded  on  the  articles. 
The  peers  agreed,  and  Henry  was  well  pleased 
To  change  two  dukedoms  for  a  duke's  fair  daughter. 
I  cannot  blame  them  all :   what  is  't  to  them  ?  220 

'Tis  thine  they  give  away,  and  not  their  own. 
Pirates  may  make  cheap  pennyworths  of  their  pillage, 
And  purchase  friends  and  give  to  courtezans. 
Still  revelling  like  lords  till  all  be  gone ; 
While  as  the  silly  owner  of  the  goods 
Weeps  over  them  and  wrings  his  hapless  hands. 
And  shakes  his  head  and  trembling  stands  aloof. 
While  all  is  shared  and  all  is  borne  away. 
Ready  to  starve  and  dare  not  touch  his  own : 
24 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

So  York  must  sit  and  fret  and  bite  his  tongue,        230 
While  his  own  lands  are  bargained  for  and  sold. 
Methinks  the  realms  of  England,  France  and  Ireland 
Bear  that  proportion  to  my  flesh  and  blood 
As  did  the  fatal  brand  Althaea  burn'd 
Unto  the  prince's  heart  of  Calydon. 
Anjou  and  Maine  both  given  unto  the  French ! 
Cold  news  for  me,  for  I  had  hope  of  France, 
Even  as  I  have  of  fertile  England's  soil. 
A  day  will  come  when  York  shall  claim  his  own ; 
And  therefore  I  will  take  the  Nevils'  parts  240 

And  make  a  show  of  love  to  proud  Duke  Humphrey, 
And,  when  I  spy  advantage,  claim  the  crown, 
For  that 's  the  golden  mark  I  seek  to  hit : 
Nor  shall  proud  Lancaster  usurp  my  right, 
Nor  hold  the  sceptre  in  his  childish  fist, 
Nor  wear  the  diadem  upon  his  head, 
Whose  church-like  humours  fits  not  for  a  crown. 
Then,  York,  be  still  awhile,  till  time  do  serve : 
Watch  thou  and  wake  when  others  be  asleep. 
To  pry  into  the  secrets  of  the  state ;  250 

Till  Henry,  surfeiting  in  joys  of  love. 
With  his  new  bride  and  England's  dear-bought  queen, 
And  Humphrey  with  the  peers  be  fall'n  at  jars : 
Then  will  I  raise  aloft  the  milk-white  rose. 
With  whose  sweet  smell  the  air  shall  be  perfumed  ; 
And  in  my  standard  bear  the  arms  of  York, 
To  grapple  with  the  house  of  Lancaster  ; 
And,  force  perforce,  I  '11  make  him  yield  the  crown, 
Whose  bookish  rule  hath  puU'd  iair  England  down. 

[Exit. 


25 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Scene  II. 

The  Duke  of  Gloucester's  house. 
Enter  Duke  Humphrey  and  his  ivife  Eleanor. 

DucJi.  Why  droops  my  lord,  like  over-ripen'd  corn, 
Hanging  the  head  at  Ceres'  plenteous  load  ? 
Why  doth  the  great  Duke  Humphrey  knit  his  brows. 
As  frowning  at  the  favours  of  the  world  ? 
Why  are  thine  eyes  fix'd  to  the  sullen  earth, 
Gazing  on  that  which  seems  to  dim  thy  sight  ? 
What  seest  thou  there?    King  Henry's  diadem. 
Enchased  with  all  the  honours  of  the  world  ? 
If  so,  gaze  on,  and  grovel  on  thy  face, 
Until  thy  head  be  circled  with  the  same.  lo 

Put  forth  thy  hand,  reach  at  the  glorious  gold. 
What,  is  't  too  short  ?    I  '11  lengthen  it  with  mine  ; 
And,  having  both  together  heaved  it  up. 
We  '11  both  together  lift  our  heads  to  heaven, 
And  never  more  abase  our  sight  so  low 
As  to  vouchsafe  one  glance  unto  the  ground. 

Glon.  O  Nell,  sweet  Nell,  if  thou  dost  love  thy  lord, 
Banish  the  canker  of  ambitious  thoughts. 
And  may  that  thought,  when  I  imagine  ill 
Against  my  king  and  nephew,  virtuous  Henry,  20 

Be  my  last  breathing  in  this  mortal  world  ! 
My  troublous  dream  this  night  doth  make  me  sad. 

Duch.  What  dream'd  my  lord?  tell  me,  and  I  '11  requite  it 
With  sweet  rehearsal  of  my  morning's  dream. 

Clou.  Methought  this  staff,  mine  office-badge  in  court, 
Was  broke  in  twain  ;  by  whom  I  have  forgot. 
But,  as  I  think,  it  was  by  the  cardinal  ; 
And  on  the  pieces  of  the  broken  wand 
26 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

AVere  placed  the  heads  of  Edmund  Dnke  of  Somerset, 
And  William  de  la  Pole,  first  Duke  of  Suffolk.  30 
This  was  my  dream  :  what  it  doth  bode,  God  knows. 

Dt{ch.  Tut,  this  was  nothing  but  an  argument. 

That  he  that  breaks  a  stick  of  Gloucester's  grove 

Shall  lose  his  head  for  his  presumption. 

But  list  to  me,  my  Humphrey,  my  sweet  duke : 

Methought  I  sat  in  seat  of  majesty. 

In  the  cathedral  church  of  Westminster, 

And  in  that  chair  where  kings  and  queens  are  crown'd  ; 

Where  Henry  and  dame  Margaret  kneel'd  to  me, 

And  on  my  head  did  set  the  diadem.  40 

Gloii.  Nay,  Eleanor,  then  must  I  chide  outright: 
Presumptuous  dame,  ill-nurtured  Eleanor, 
Art  thou  not  second  woman  in  the  realm. 
And  the  protector's  wife,  beloved  of  him  ? 
Hast  thou  not  worldly  pleasure  at  command, 
Above  the  reach  or  compass  of  thy  thought  ? 
And  wilt  thou  still  be  hammering  treachery, 
To  tumble  down  thy  husband  and  thyself 
From  top  of  honour  to  disgrace's  feet  ? 
Away  from  me,  and  let  me  hear  no  more !  50 

Diich.  What,  what,  my  lord!   are  you  so  choleric 
With  Eleanor,  for  telling  but  her  dream  ? 
Next  time  I  '11  keep  my  dreams  unto  myself, 
And  not  be  check'd. 

Glou.  Nay,  be  not  angry ;   I  am  pleased  again. 

Enter  Messenger. 

Mess.  My  lord  protector,  'tis  his  highness'  pleasure 
You  do  prepare  to  ride  unto  Saint  Alban's, 
Where  as  the  king  and  queen  do  mean  to  hawk. 

27 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Glou.  I  go.     Come,  Nell,  thou  wilt  ride  with  us  ? 

Duch.  Yes,  my  good  lord,  I  '11  follow  presently.  60 

[Exeunt  Gloucester  and  Messenger. 
Follow  I  must ;  I  cannot  go  before, 
While  Gloucester  bears  this  base  and  humble  mind. 
Were  I  a  man,  a  duke,  and  next  of  blood, 
I  would  remove  these  tedious  stumbling-blocks 
And  smooth  my  way  upon  their  headless  necks  ; 
And,  being  a  woman,  I  will  not  be  slack 
To  play  my  part  in  Fortune's  pageant. 
Where  are  you  there  ?     Sir  John  !  nay,  fear  not,  man. 
We  are  alone ;   here  's  none  but  thee  and  I. 

Enter  Hume. 

Hume.  Jesus  preserve  your  royal  majesty !  70 

Duch.  What  say'st  thou?  majesty!   I  am  but  grace. 

Hume.  But,  by  the  grace  of  God,  and  Hume's  advice. 
Your  grace's  title  shall  be  multiplied. 

Duch.  What  say'st  thou,  man?  hast  thou  as  yet  conferr'd 
With  Margery  Jourdain,  the  cunning  witch. 
With  Roger  Bolingbroke,  the  conjurer? 
And  will  they  undertake  to  do  me  good? 

Hume.  This  they  have  promised,  to  show  your  highness 
A  spirit  raised  from  depth  of  under-ground, 
That  shall  make  answer  to  such  questions  80 

As  by  your  grace  shall  be  propounded  him. 

Duch.  It  is  enough  ;   I  '11  think  upon  the  questions  : 
\Mien  from  Saint  Alban's  we  do  make  return, 
We  '11  see  these  things  effected  to  the  full. 
Here,  Hume,  take  this  reward  ;  make  merry,  man, 
With  thy  confederates  in  this  weighty  cause.     [Exit. 

Hume.  Hume  must  make  merry  with  the  duchess'  gold ; 

28 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

yisLTvy,  and  shall.     But,  how  now,  Sir  John  Hume ! 

Seal  up  your  lips,  and  give  no  words  but  mum : 

The  business  asketh  silent  secrecy.  90 

Dame  Eleanor  gives  gold  to  bring  the  witch  : 

Gold  cannot  come  amiss,  were  she  a  devil. 

Yet  have  I  gold  flies  from  another  coast ; 

I  dare  not  say,  from  the  rich  cardinal, 

And  from  the  great  and  new-made  Duke  of  Suffolk, 

Yet  I  do  find  it  so ;   for,  to  be  plain. 

They,  knowing  Dame  Eleanor's  aspiring  humour, 

Have  hired  me  to  undermine  the  duchess. 

And  buz  these  conjurations  in  her  brain. 

They  say  '  A  crafty  knave  does  need  no  broker ; ' 

Yet  am  I  Suffolk  and  the  cardinal's  broker.  loi 

Hume,  if  you  take  not  heed,  you  shall  go  near 

To  call  them  both  a  pair  of  crafty  knaves. 

Well,  so  it  stands ;   and  thus,  I  fear,  at  last 

Hume's  knavery  w^ill  be  the  duchess'  wreck, 

And  her  attainture  will  be  Humphrey's  fall : 

Sort  how  it  will,  I  shall  have  gold  for  all.         [Exit. 

Scene  III. 

The  palace. 

Enter  three  or  four  Petitioners,  Peter,  the  Armourer's 
man,  being  one. 

First  Petit.  Aly  masters,  let 's  stand  close :  my  lord 
protector  will  come  this  way  by  and  by,  and  then 
we  may  deliver  our  supplications  in  the  quill. 

Sec.  Petit.  Marry,  the  Lord  protect  him,  for  he  's  a 
good  man  !     Jesu  bless  him ! 

29 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Enter  Suffolk  and  Queen. 

Peter.  Here  a'  comes,  methinks,  and  the  queen  with 

him.     I  '11  be  the  first,  sure. 
See.  Petit.  Come   back,    fool ;    this   is   the   Duke   of 

Suffolk,  and  not  my  lord  protector. 
Siif.  How  now,  fellow!   wouldst  any  thing  with  me?     lo 
First  Petit.  I  pray,  my  lord,  pardon  me ;    I  took  ye 

for  my  lord  protector. 
Queen.  [Reading]  'To  my  Lord  Protector  !'  Are  your 

supplications  to  his  lordship  ?     Let  me  see  them  : 

what  is  thine  ? 
First  Petit.   ]Mine  is,  an  *t  please  your  grace,  against 

John    Goodman,    my    lord    cardinal's    man,    for 

keeping  my  house,  and  lands,  and  wife  and  all, 

from  me. 
Suf.  Thy    wife    too !     that 's    some    wrong,    indeed.     20 

What  's-  yours?  what  's  here!  [Reads]  '  Against 

the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  for  enclosing  the  commons 

of  iNIelford.'     How  now,  sir  knave ! 
Sec.  Petit.  Alas,  sir,  I  am  but  a  poor  petitioner  of  our 

whole  township. 
Peter  [givinghis  petition].  Against  my  master,  Thomas 

Horner,  for  saying  that  the  Duke  of  York  was 

rightful  heir  to  the  crown. 
Queen.  What  say'st  thou  ?  did  the  Duke  of  York  say 

he  was  rightful  heir  to  the  crown  ?  30 

Peter.   That  my  master  was  ?  no,  forsooth  :  my  master 

said   that   he   was,    and   that   the   king   was   an 

usurper. 
Suf.  Who  is  there?  [Enter  Servant.]  Take  this  fellow 

in,  and  send  for  his  master  with  a  pursuivant 

30 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

presently :  we  '11  hear  more  of  your  matter  before 
the  king.  [Exit  Servant  zcith  Peter. 

Queen.  And  as  for  you,  that  love  to  be  protected 
Under  the  wings  of  our  protector's  grace, 
Begin  your  suits  anew,  and  sue  to  him.  40 

[Tears  the  supplications. 
Away,  base  cullions !     Suffolk,  let  them  go. 

All.  Come,  let's  be. gone.  [Exeunt. 

Queen.  My  Lord  of  Suffolk,  say,  is  this  the  guise, 
Is  this  the  fashion  in  the  court  of  England? 
Is  this  the  government  of  Britain's  isle. 
And  this  the  royalty  of  Albion's  king? 
What,  shall  King  Henry  be  a  pupil  still 
Under  the  surly  Gloucester's  governance? 
Am  I  a  queen  in  title  and  in  style. 
And  must  be  made  a  subject  to  a  duke?  50 

I  tell  thee,  Pole,  when  in  the  city  Tours 
Thou  ran'st  a  tilt  in  honour  of  my  love. 
And  stolest  away  the  ladies'  hearts  of  France, 
I  thought  King  Henry  had  resembled  thee 
In  courage,  courtship  and  proportion : 
But  all  his  mind  is  bent  to  holiness, 
To  number  Ave-Maries  on  his  beads  ; 
His  champions  are  the  prophets  and  apostles, 
His  weapons  holy  saws  of  sacred  writ, 
His  study  is  his  tilt-yard,  and  his  loves  60 

Are  brazen  images  of  canonized  saints. 
I  would  the  college  of  the  cardinals 
Would  choose  him  pope  and  carry  him  to  Rome, 
And  set  the  triple  crown  upon  his  head  : 
That  were  a  state  fit  for  his  holiness. 

Suf.  Madam,  be  patient :   as  I  was  cause 

31 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Your  highness  came  to  England,  so  will  I 
In  England  work  your  grace's  full  content. 

Queen.  Beside  the  haughty  protector,  have  we  Beaufort, 
The  imperious  churchman,  Somerset,  Buckingham, 
And  grumbling  York  ;  and  not  the  least  of  these      71 
But  can  do  more  in  England  than  the  king. 

Siif.  And  he  of  these  that  can  do  most  of  all 

Cannot  do  more  in  England  than  the  Nevils : 
Salisbury  and  Warwick  are  no  simple  peers. 

Queen.  Not  all  these  lords  do  vex  me  half  so  much 
As  that  proud  dame,  the  lord  protector's  wife. 
She  sweeps  it  through  the  court  with  troops  of  ladies, 
More  like  an  empress  than  Duke  Humphrey's  wife : 
Strangers  in  court  do  take  her  for  the  queen :  80 

She  bears  a  duke's  revenues  on  her  back. 
And  in  her  heart  she  scorns  our  poverty : 
Shall  I  not  live  to  be  avenged  on  her? 
Contemptuous  base-born  callet  as  she  is. 
She  vaunted  'mongst  her  minions  t'  other  day. 
The  very  train  of  her  worst  wearing  gown 
Was  better  worth  than  all  my  father's  lands. 
Till  Suffolk  gave  two  dukedoms  for  his  daughter. 

Stif.  Madam,  myself  have  limed  a  bush  for  her, 

And  placed  a  quire  of  such  enticing  birds,  90 

That  she  will  light  to  listen  to  the  lays, 

And  never  mount  to  trouble  you  again. 

So,  let  her  rest :   and,  madam,  list  to  me ; 

For  I  am  bold  to  counsel  you  in  this. 

Although  we  fancy  not  the  cardinal. 

Yet  must  we  join  with  him  and  with  the  lords. 

Till  we  have  brought  Duke  Humphrey  in  disgrace. 

As  for  the  Duke  of  York,  this  late  complaint 

32 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  I.  Sc.  Hi. 

Will  make  but  little  for  his  benefit. 

So,  one  by  one,  we  '11  weed  them  all  at  last.  lOO 

And  you  yourself  shall  steer  the  happy  helm. 

Sound  a  Sennet.  Enter  the  King,  Duke  Humphrey  of 
Gloucester,  Cardinal  Beaufort,  Buckingham,  York, 
Somerset,  Salisbury,  Warzvick,  and  the  Duchess  of 
Gloucester. 

King.  For  my  part,  noble  lords,  I  care  not  which ; 

Or  Somerset  or  York,  all 's  one  to  me. 
York.  If  York  have  ill  demean'd  himself  in  France, 

Then  let  him  be  denay'd  the  regentship. 
Soni.  If  Somerset  be  unworthy  of  the  place, 

Let  York  be  regent ;   I  will  yield  to  him. 
War.  Whether  your  grace  be  worthy,  yea  or  no, 

Dispute  not  that :   York  is  the  worthier. 
Car.  Ambitious  Warwick,  let  thy  betters  speak.  no 

War.  The  cardinal 's  not  my  better  in  the  field. 
Buck.  All  in  this  presence  are  thy  betters,  Warwick. 
War.  Warwick  may  live  to  be  the  best  of  all. 
Sal.  Peace,  son !   and  show^  some  reason,  Buckingham, 

Why  Somerset  should  be  preferr'd  in  this. 
Queen.  Because  the  king,  forsooth,  will  have  it  so. 
Gloii.  Madam,  the  king  is  old  enough  himself 

To  give  his  censure :    these  are  no  w^omen's  matters. 
Queen.  If  he  be  old  enough,  w^hat  needs  your  grace 

To  be  protector  of  his  excellence  ?  t2d 

Gloii.  Madam,  I  am  protector  of  the  realm  : 

And,  at  his  pleasure,  will  resign  my  place. 
Suf.  Resign  it  then  and  leave  thine  insolence. 

Since  thou  wert  king — as  who  is  king  but  thou  ? — 

The  commonwealth  hath  daily  run  to  w^reck  ; 

The  Dauphin  hath  prevail'd  beyond  the  seas ; 

33 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And  all  the  peers  and  nobles  of  the  realm 
Have  been  as  bondmen  to  thy  sovereignty. 

Car.  The  commons  hast  thou  rack'd ;  the  clergy's  bags 
Are  lank  and  lean  with  thy  extortions.  130 

So}n.  Thy  sumptuous  buildings  and  thy  wife's  attire 
Have  cost  a  mass  of  public  treasury. 

Buck.  Thy  cruelty  in  execution 

Upon  offenders  hath  exceeded  law, 
And  left  thee  to  the  mercy  of  the  law. 

Queen.  Thy  sale  of  offices  and  towns  in  France, 
If  they  were  known,  as  the  suspect  is  great, 
\\'ould  make  thee  quickly  hop  without  thy  head. 

[E.vit  Gloucester.     The  Queen  drops  her  fan. 
Give  me  my  fan  :   what,  minion  !   can  ye  not  ? 

[She  gives  the  Duchess  a  box  on  the  ear. 
I  cry  you  mercy,  madam;   was  it  you?  140 

Duch.  \\'as 't  I!    yea,  I  it  was,  proud  Frenchwoman: 
Could  I  come  near  your  beauty  with  my  nails, 
I  'Id  set  my  ten  commandments  in  your  face. 

King.  Sweet  aunt,  be  quiet ;   'twas  against  her  will. 

Duch.  Against  her  will !   good  king,  look  to  't  in  time  ; 
She  '11  hamper  thee,  and  dandle  thee  like  a  baby: 
Though  in  this  place  most  master  wear  no  breeches. 
She  shall  not  strike  Dame  Eleanor  unrevenged.  [Exit. 

Buck.  Lord  cardinal,  T  will  follow  Eleanor, 

And  listen  after  Humphrey,  how  he  proceeds  :        150 

She  's  tickled  now ;   her  fume  needs  no  spurs. 

She  '11  gallop  far  enough  to  her  destruction.     [Exit. 

Re-enter  Gloucester. 

Glou.  Now,  lords,  my  choler  being  over-blown 
With  walking  once  about  the  quadrangle, 

34 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  I.Sc.  iii. 

I  come  to  talk  of  commonwealth  affairs. 

As  for  your  spiteful  false  objections, 

Prove  them,  and  I  lie  open  to  the  law : 

But  God  in  mercy  so  deal  with  my  soul, 

As  I  in  duty  love  my  king  and  country ! 

But,  to  the  matter  that  we  have  in  hand :  i6o 

I  say,  my  sovereign,  York  is  meetest  man 

To  be  your  regent  in  the  realm  of  France. 

Sitf.  Before  we  make  election,  give  me  leave 
To  show  some  reason,  of  no  little  force. 
That  York  is  most  unmeet  of  any  man. 

York.  I  '11  tell  thee,  Suffolk,  why  I  am  unmeet : 
First,  for  I  cannot  flatter  thee  in  pride ; 
Next,  if  I  be  appointed  for  the  place. 
My  Lord  of  Somerset  will  keep  me  here, 
Without  discharge,  money,  or  furniture,  170 

Till  France  be  won  into  the  Dauphin's  hands : 
Last  time,  I  danced  attendance  on  his  will 
Till  Paris  was  besieged,  famish'd,  and  lost. 

U  'ar.  That  can  I  witness ;  and  a  fouler  fact 
Did  never  traitor  in  the  land  commit. 

Suf.   Peace,  headstrong  \A^arwick  ! 

War.  Image  of  pride,  why  should  I  hold  my  peace  ? 

Enter  Horner,  the  Armourer,  and  his  man  Peter,  guarded. 

Suf.  Because  here  is  a  man  accused  of  treason : 
Pray  God  the  Duke  of  York  excuse  himself ! 

York.  Doth  any  one  accuse  York  for  a  traitor?  180 

Kmg.  What  mean'st  thou,  Suffolk  ?  tell  me,  what  are  these  ? 

Stif.  Please  it  your  majesty,  this  is  the  man 

That  doth  accuse  his  master  of  high  treason  : 

His  words  were  these :  that  Richard  Duke  of  York 

35 


Act  1.  Sc.  Hi.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Was  rightful  heir  unto  the  EngHsh  crown, 
And  that  your  majesty  was  an  usurper. 

King.  Say,  man,  were  these  thy  words  ? 

Hor.  An 't  shall  please  your  majesty,  I  never  said 
nor  thought  any  such  matter :  God  is  my  witness, 
I  am  falsely  accused  by  the  villain.  190 

Pet.  By  these  ten  bones,  my  lords,  he  did  speak  them 
to  me  in  the  garret  one  night,  as  we  were  scour- 
ing my  Lord  of  York's  armour. 

York.  Base  dunghill  villain  and  mechanical, 

I  '11  have  thy  head  for  this  thy  traitor's  speech. 

I  do  beseech  your  royal  majesty, 

Let  him  have  all  the  rigour  of  the  law. 

Hor.  Alas,  my  lord,  hang  me,  if  ever  I  spake  the 
words.  My  accuser  is  my  'prentice  ;  and  when 
I  did  correct  him  for  his  fault  the  other  day,  he  200 
did  vow  upon  his  knees  he  would  be  even  with 
me :  I  have  good  witness  of  this ;  therefore  I 
beseech  your  majesty,  do  not  cast  away  an  honest 
man  for  a  villain's  accusation. 

King.  Uncle,  what  shall  we  say  to  this  in  law  ? 

Gloit.  This  doom,  my  lord,  if  I  may  judge: 
Let  Somerset  be  regent  o'er  the  French, 
Because  in  York  this  breeds  suspicion : 
And  let  these  have  a  day  appointed  them. 
For  single  combat  in  convenient  place,  210 

For  he  hath  witness  of  his  servant's  malice : 
This  is  the  law,  and  this  Duke  Humphrey's  doom. 

Som.   I  humbly  thank  your  royal  majesty. 

Hor.  And  I  accept  the  combat  willingly. 

Pet.  Alas,  my  lord,  I  cannot  fight ;  for  God's  sake, 
pity    my    case.     The    spite    of    man    prevaileth 

3^ 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

against  me.     O  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me !    I 

shall  never  be  able  to  fight  a  blow.     O  Lord,  my 

heart ! 
Gloii.  Sirrah,  or  you  must  fight,  or  else  be  hang'd.      220 
King.  Away  with  them  to  prison  ;    and  the  day  of 

combat   shall   be   the   last   of   the   next   month. 

Come,  Somerset,  we  '11  see  thee  sent  away. 

[Flourish.     Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

Gloucester's  garden. 

Enter  Margery  Jourdain,  Hume,  Southzvell, 
and  Bolinghroke. 

Hume.  Come,  my  masters  ;    the  duchess,  I  tell  you, 
expects  performance  of  your  promises. 

Boling.  Master  Hume,   we  are  therefore  provided : 
will  her  ladyship  behold  and  hear  our  exorcisms  ? 

Hume.  Ay,  what  else?   fear  you  not  her  courage. 

Boling,  I  have  heard  her  reported  to  be  a  woman  of 
an  invincible  spirit :  but  it  shall  be  convenient, 
Master  Hume,  that  you  be  by  her  aloft,  while 
we  be  busy  below ;  and  so,  I  pray  you,  go,  10 
in  God's  name,  and  leave  us.  [Exit  Hume.] 
Mother  Jourdain,  be  you  prostrate  and  grovel 
on  the  earth ;  John  Southwell,  read  you ;  and 
let  us  to  our  work. 

Enter  Duchess  aloft,  Hume  follozving. 

Duch.  Well  said,  my  masters  ;   and  welcome  all.     To 
this  gear  the  sooner  the  better. 

37 


Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Boling.   Patience,  good  lady ;   wizards  know  their  times : 
Deep  night,  dark  night,  the  silent  of  the  night. 
The  time  of  night  when  Troy  was  set  on  fire ;  19 

The  time  when  screech-owls  cry,  and  ban-dogs  howl, 
And  spirits  walk,  and  ghosts  break  up  their  graves, 
That  time  best  fits  the  work  we  have  in  hand. 
Madam,  sit  you  and  fear  not :   whom  we  raise. 
We  will  make  fast  within  a  hallow 'd  verge. 

[Here  they  do  the  ceremonies  belonging,  and  make 
the  circle;  Bolinghroke  or  Southwell  reads, 
Conjuro  te,  &c.  It  thunders  and  lightens  ter- 
ribly;  then  the  Spirit  riseth. 

Spir.  Adsum. 

M.  Jourd.  Asmath, 

By  the  eternal  God,  whose  name  and  power 

Thou  tremblest  at,  answer  that  I  shall  ask  ; 

For,  till  thou  speak,  thou  shalt  not  pass  trom  hence. 

Spir.  Ask  what  thou  wilt.     That  I  had  said  and  done !  30 

Boling.  '  First  of  the  king:   what  shall  of  him  become?  ' 

[Reading  out  of  a  paper. 

Spir.  The  duke  yet  lives  that  Henry  shall  depose ; 
But  him  outlive,  and  die  a  violent  death. 
[As  the  Spirit  speaks,  Southzvell  zvrites  the  anszver. 

Boling.  '  What  fates  await  the  Duke  of  Suffolk?  ' 

Spir.  By  water  shall  he  die,  and  take  his  end. 

Boling.  '  What  shall  befall  the  Duke  of  Somerset? ' 

Spir.  Let  him  shun  castles ; 

Safer  shall  he  be  upon  the  sandy  plains 

Than  where  castles  mounted  stand. 

Have  done,  for  more  I  hardly  can  endure.  40 

38 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

Boling.  Descend  to  darkness  and  the  burning  lake ! 
False  fiend,  avoid ! 

[Thunder  and  lightning.     Exit  Spirit. 

Enter  the  Duke  of  York  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham 
zvith  their  Guard  and  break  in. 

York.  Lay  hands  upon  these  traitors  and  their  trash. 

Beldam,  I  think  we  watch'd  you  at  an  inch. 

What,  madam,  are  you  there?    the  king  and  com- 
monweal 

Are  deeply  indebted  for  this  piece  of  pains : 

I\Iy  lord  protector  will,  I  doubt  it  not. 

See  you  well  guerdoned  for  these  good  deserts. 
Duch.  Not  half  so  bad  as  thine  to  England's  king, 

Injurious  duke,  that  threatest  where  's  no  cause.      50 
Buck.  True,  madam,  none  at  all:   what  call  you  this? 

Away  with  them !   let  them  be  clapp'd  up  close. 

And  kept  asunder.     You,  madam,  shall  with  us. 

Stafford,  take  her  to  thee. 

[Exeunt  above  Duchess  and  Hume,  guarded. 

We  '11  see  your  trinkets  here  all  forthcoming. 

All,  away ! 

]^Exeu}it  guard  zvith  Jourdain,  Southzvell,  &c, 
York.  Lord  Buckingham,  methinks,  you  watch'd  her  well : 

A  pretty  plot,  well  chosen  to  build  upon ! 

Now,  pray,  my  lord,  let 's  see  the  devil's  writ. 

What  have  we  here?  [Reads.     60 

'  The  duke  yet  lives,  that  Henry  shall  depose; 

But  him  outlive,  and  die  a  violent  death.' 

Why  this  is  just 

'  Aio  te,  ^acida,  Romanos  vincere  posse.' 

Well,  to  the  rest : 

39 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

'  Tell  me,  what  fate  awaits  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  ? 

By  water  shall  he  die,  and  take  his  end. 

What  shall  betide  the  Duke  of  Somerset? 

Let  him  shun  castles ; 

Safer  shall  he  be  upon  the  sandy  plains  70 

Than  where  castles  mounted  stand.' 

Come,  come,  my  lords ; 

These  oracles  are  hardly  attained, 

And  hardly  understood. 

The  king.is  now  in  progress  towards  Saint  Alban's, 

With  him  the  husband  of  this  lovely  lady : 

Thither  go  these  news,  as  fast  as  horse  can  carry  them : 

A  sorry  breakfast  for  my  lord  protector. 
Buck.  Your  grace  shall  give  me  leave,  my  Lord  of  York, 

To  be  the  post,  in  hope  of  his  reward.  80 

York.  At  your  pleasure,  my  good  lord.     Who  's  within 

there,  ho! 

Enter  a  Serving-man. 

Invite  my  Lords  of  Salisbury  and  Warwick 
To  sup  with  me  to-morrow  night.     Away ! 

[Exeunt. 

ACT  SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

Saint  Albans. 

Enter  the  King,  Queen,  Gloucester,  Cardinal,  and  Suffolk, 
with  Falconers  halloing. 

Queen.  Believe  me,  lords,  for  flying  at  the  brook, 
I  saw  not  better  sport  these  seven  years'  day. 
Yet,  by  your  leave,  the  wind  was  very  high ; 

40 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  II.  Sc.  ic 

And,  ten  to  one,  old  Joan  had  not  gone  out. 
King.  But  what  a  point,  my  lord,  your  falcon  made, 

And  what  a  pitch  she  flew  above  the  rest ! 

To  see  how  God  in  all  His  creatures  works ! 

Yea,  man  and  birds  are  fain  of  climbing  high. 
Siif.  No  marvel,  an  it  like  your  majesty, 

My  lord  protector's  hawks  do  tower  so  well ;  i 

They  know  their  master  loves  to  be  aloft, 

And  bears  his  thoughts  above  his  falcon's  pitch. 
Glou.  My  lord,  'tis  but  a  base  ignoble  mind 

That  mounts  no  higher  than  a  bird  can  soar. 
Car.  I  thought  as  much ;  he  would  be  above  the  clouds. 
Glou.  Ay,  my  lord  cardinal?  how  think  you  by  that? 

Were  it  not  good  your  grace  could  fly  to  heaven  ? 
King.  The  treasury  of  everlasting  joy. 
Car.  Thy  heaven  is  on  earth ;   thine  eyes  and  thoughts 

Beat  on  a  crown,  the  treasure  of  thy  heart ;  20 

Pernicious  protector,  dangerous  peer, 

That  smooth'st  it  so  with  king  and  commonweal ! 
Glou.  What,    cardinal,    is    your    priesthood    grown    per- 
emptory ? 

Tantaene  animis  coelestibus  irse? 

Churchmen  so  hot  ?  good  uncle,  hide  such  malice ;' 

With  such  holiness  can  you  do  it  ? 
Suf.  No  malice,  sir ;  no  more  than  well  becomes 

So  good  a  quarrel  and  so  bad  a  peer. 
Glou.  As  who,  my  lord  ? 
Suf.  Why,  as  you,  my  lord, 

An  't  like  your  lordly  lord-protectorship.  30 

Glou.  Why,  Suffolk,  England  knows  thine  insolence. 
Queen.  And  thy  ambition,  Gloucester. 
King.  I  prithee,  peace,  good  queen, 

41 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And  whet  not  on  these  furious  peers ; 
For  blessed  are  the  peacemakers  on  earth. 
Car.  Let  me  be  blessed  for  the  peace  I  make, 

Against  this  proud  protector,  with  my  sword! 
Clou.  [Aside  to  Car.]  Faith,  holy  uncle,  would  'twere  come 

to  that ! 
Car.    [Aside  to  Clou.]    Marry,  when  thou  darest. 
Clou.  [Aside  to  Car.]  Make  up  no  factious  numbers  for  the 
matter ;  40 

In  thine  own  person  answer  thy  abuse. 
Car.   [Aside  to  Clou.]   Ay,  where  thou  darest  not  peep  :  an 
if  thou  darest. 
This  evening,  on  the  east  side  of  the  grove. 
King.  How  now,  my  lords  ! 

Car.  Believe  me,  cousin  Gloucester, 

Had  not  your  man  put  up  the  fowl  so  suddenly. 
We  had  had  more  sport.     [Aside  to  Clou.]     Come 
with  thy  two-hand  sword. 
Clou.  True,  uncle. 
Car.    [Aside  to  Clou.]   Are  ye  advised?    the  east  side  of 

the  grove  ? 
Clou.    [Aside  to  Car.]   Cardinal,  I  am  with  you. 
King.  Why,  how  now,  uncle  Gloucester ! 

Clou.  Talking  of  hawking  ;   nothing  else,  my  lord.  50 

[Aside  to  Car.]   Now,  by  God's  mother,  priest,  I'll 

shave  your  crown  for  this, 
Or  all  my  fence  shall  fail. 
Car.   [Aside  to  Clou.]   Aledice,  teipsum — 

Protector,  see  to  't  well,  protect  yourself. 
King.  The   winds    grow   high ;     so   do   your    stomachs, 
lords. 
How  irksome  is  this  music  to  my  heart ! 

42 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

When  such  strings  jar,  what  hope  of  harmony? 
I  pray,  my  lords,  let  me  compound  this  strife. 

Enter  a  Townsman  of  Saint  Albans,  crying  '  A  miracle!  ' 

Glou.  What  means  this  noise? 

Fellow,  what  miracle  dost  thou  proclaim?  60 

Tozuns.  A  miracle  !   a  miracle  ! 
Suf.  Come  to  the  king  and  tell  him  what  miracle. 
7  ozvns.  Forsooth,  a  blind  man  at  Saint  Alban's  shrine, 

Within  this  half-hour,  hath  received  his  sight ; 

A  man  that  ne'er  saw  m  his  life  before. 
King.   Now,  God  be  praised,  that  to  believing  souls 

Gives  light  in  darkness,  comfort  in  despair ! 

Enter  the  Mayor  of  Saint  Albans  and  his  brethren, 

bearing  Simpcox,  betzveen  tzvo  in  a  chair, 

Simpco.r's  Wife  follozdng. 

Car.  Here  comes  the  townsmen  on  procession, 

To  present  your  highness  with  the  man. 
King.  Great  is  his  comfort  in  this  earthly  vale,  70 

Although  by  his  sight  his  sin  be  multiplied. 
Glou.  Stand  by,  my  masters :   bring  him  near  the  king ; 

His  highness'  pleasure  is  to  talk  with  him. 
King.  Good  fellow,  tell  us  here  the  circumstance. 

That  we  for  thee  may  glorify  the  Lord. 

What,  hast  thou  been  long  blind  and  now  restored  ? 
Simp.  Born  blind,  an  't  please  your  grace. 
Wife.  Ay,  indeed,  was  he. 
Suf.  What  woman  is  this? 

Wife.  His  wife,  an  't  like  your  worship.  80 

Glou.  Hadst  thou  been  his  mother,  thou  couldst  have  better 

told. 
King.  Where  wert  thou  born  ? 

43 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Simp,  At  Berwick  in  the  north,  an  't  Hke  your  grace. 
King.  Poor  soul,  God's  goodness  hath  been  great  to  thee : 

Let  never  day  nor  night  unhallow'd  pass, 

But  still  remember  what  the  Lord  hath  done. 
Queen.  Tell  me,  good  fellow,  earnest  thou  here  by  chance, 

Or  of  devotion,  to  this  holy  shrine  ? 
Simp.  God  knows,  of  pure  devotion ;   being  call'd 

A  hundred  times  and  oftener,  in  my  sleep,  90 

By  good  Saint  Alban  ;   who  said,  '  Simpcox,  come, 

Come,  offer  at  my  shrine,  and  I  will  help  thee.' 
Wife.  Most  true,  forsooth ;   and  many  time  and  oft 

Myself  have  heard  a  voice  to  call  him  so. 
Car.  What,  art  thou  lame  ? 

Simp.  Ay,  God  Almighty  help  me ! 

Siif.  How  camest  thou  so  ? 
Simp.  A  fall  off  of  a  tree. 

Wife.  A  plum-tree,  master. 

Glou.  How  long  hast  thou  been  blind? 

Simp.  O,  born  so,  master. 

Glou.  What,  and  wouldst  climb  a  tree? 

Simp.  But  that  in  all  my  life,  when  I  was  a  youth. 
Wife.  Too  true;   and  bought  his  climbing  very  dear.  100 
Glou.  Mass,  thou  lovedst  plums  well,  that  wouldst  venture 

so. 
Simp.  Alas,  good  master,  my  wife  desired  some  damsons, 

And  made  me  climb,  with  danger  of  my  life. 
Glou.  A  subtle  knave !  but  yet  it  shall  not  serve. 

Let  me  see  thine  eyes  :   wink  now  :  now  open  them  : 

In  my  opinion  yet  thou  see'st  not  well. 
Simp.  Yes,  master,  clear  as  day,  I  thank  God  and  Saint 

Alban. 
Glou.  Say'st  thou  me  so?     What  colour  is  this  cloak  of? 

44 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Simp.  Red,  master ;   red  as  blood. 

Glou.  Why,  that  's  well  said.     What  colour  is  my  gown 
of?  no 

Simp.  Black,  forsooth  :  coal-black  as  jet. 

King.  Why,  then,  thou  know'st  what  colour  jet  is  of? 

Suf.  And  yet,  I  think,  jet  did  he  never  see. 

Glou.  But  cloaks  and  gowns,  before  this  day,  a  many. 

Wife.  Never,  before  this  day,  in  all  his  life. 

Glou.  Tell  me,  sirrah,  what 's  my  name? 

Simp.  xA.las,  master,  I  know  not. 

Glou.  What 's  his  name? 

Simp.  I  know  not. 

Glou.   Nor  his?  120 

Simp.  No,  indeed,  master. 

Glou.  \\'hat  's  thine  own  name? 

Simp.  Saunder  Simpcox,  an  if  it  please  you,  master. 

Glou.  Then,  Saunder,  sit  there,  the  lyingest  knave 
in  Christendom.  If  thou  hadst  been  born  blind, 
thou  mightst  as  well  have  known  all  our  names 
as  thus  to  name  the  several  colours  we  do  wear. 
Sight  may  distinguish  of  colours,  but  suddenly 
to  nominate  them  all,  it  is  impossible.  My 
lords,  Saint  Alban  here  hath  done  a  miracle;  130 
and  would  ye  not  think  his  cunning  to  be  great, 
that  could  restore  this  cripple  to  his  legs  again? 

Simp.  O  master,  that  you  could ! 

Glou.  My  masters  of   Saint  Albans,   have  you  not 
beadles  in  your  town,  and  things  called  whips? 

May.  Yes,  iny  lord,  if  it  please  your  grace. 

Glou.  Then  send  for  one  presently. 

May.  Sirrah,  go  fetch  the  beadle  hither  straight. 

[Exit  an  attendant. 

45 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Glou.  Xow  fetch  me  a  stool  hither  by  and  by.     Now, 

sirrah,  if  you  mean  to  save  yourself  from  whip-   140 
ping,  leap  me  over  this  stool  and  run  away. 

Simp.  Alas,  master,  I  am  not  able  to  stand  alone : 
You  go  about  to  torture  me  in  vain. 

Enter  a  Beadle  zvith  zvhips. 

Glou.  Well,  sir,  we  must  have  you  find  your  legs. 
Sirrah  beadle,  whip  him  till  he  leap  over  that 
same  stool. 

Bead.  I  will,  my  lord.  Come  on,  sirrah ;  off  with 
your  doublet  quickly. 

Simp.  Alas,   master,    what   shall   I   do?     I   am   not 

able  to  stand.  150 

[After  the  Beadle  hath  hit  him  once,  he  leaps  over 
the  stool  and  runs  azvay;  and  they  follozij  and 
cry,  '  A  miracle  I ' 

King.  O  God,  seest  Thou  this,  and  bearest  so  long? 

Queen.  It  made  me  laugh  to  see  the  villain  run. 

Glou.   Follow  the  knave ;   and  take  this  drab  away. 

Wife.  Alas,  sir,  we  did  it  for  pure  need. 

Glou.  Let  them  be  whipped  through  every  market- 
town,  till  they  come  to  Berwick,  from  whence 
they  came.  [Exeunt  Wife,  Beadle,  Mayor,  etc. 

Car.  Duke  Humphrey  has  done  a  miracle  to-day. 

Suf.  True ;   made  the  lame  to  leap  and  fly  away. 

Glou.  But  you  have  done  more  miracles  than  I ;  160 

You  made  in  a  day,  my  lord,  whole  towns  to  fly. 

Enter  Buckingham. 

King.  What  tidings  with  our  cousin  Buckingham  ? 
Buck.   Such  as  my  heart  doth  tremble  to  unfold. 

46 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

A  sort  of  naughty  persons,  lewdly  bent, 

Under  the  countenance  and  confederacy 

Of  Lady  Eleanor,  the  protector's  wife, 

The  ringleader  and  head  of  all  this  rout, 

Have  practised  dangerously  against  your  state, 

Dealing  with  witches  and  with  conjurers: 

Whom  we  have  apprehended  in  the  fact ;  170 

Raising  up  wicked  spirits  from  under  ground, 

Demanding  of  King  Henry's  life  and  death. 

And  other  of  your  highness'  privy-council ; 

As  more  at  large  your  grace  shall  understand. 

Car.    [Aside  to  Glou.]   And  so,  my  lord  protector,  by  this 
means 
Your  lady  is  forthcoming  yet  at  London. 
This  news,  I  think,  hath  turn'd  your  weapon's  edge  ; 
'Tis  like,  my  lord,  you  will  not  keep  your  hour. 

Glou.  Ambitious  churchman,  leave  to  afflict  my  heart : 
Sorrow  and  grief  have  vanquish'd  all  my  powers  ;  180 
And,  vanquish'd  as  I  am*  I  yield  to  thee. 
Or  to  the  meanest  groom. 

King.  O  God,  what  mischiefs  work  the  wicked  ones. 
Heaping  confusion  on  their  own  heads  thereby ! 

Queen.  Gloucester,  see  here  the  tainture  of  thy  nest. 
And  look  thyself  be  faultless,  thou  wert  best. 

Glou.  Aladam,  for  myself,  to  heaven  I  do  appeal. 
How  I  have  loved  my  king  and  commonweal : 
And,  for  my  wife,  I  know  not  how  it  stands ; 
Sorry  I  am  to  hear  what  I  have  heard :  190 

Noble  she  is,  but  if  she  have  forgot 
Honour  and  virtue  and  conversed  with  such 
As,  like  to  pitch,  defile  nobility, 
I  banish  her  my  bed  and  company, 

47 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And  give  her  as  a  prey  to  law  and  shame, 
That  have  dishonour'd  Gloucester's  honest  name. 
King.  Well,  for  this  night  we  will  repose  us  here : 
To-morrow  toward  London  back  again. 
To  look  into  this  business  thoroughly. 
And  call  these  foul  offenders  to  their  answers,      200 
And  poise  the  cause  in  justice'  equal  scales. 
Whose  beam  stands  sure,  whose  rightful  cause  prevails. 

[Flourish.     Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

London.     The  Duke  of  York's  garden. 
Enter  York,  Salisbury,  and  JVarzvick. 

York.  Now,  my  good  Lords  of  Salisbury  and  Warwick, 
Our  simple  supper  ended,  give  me  leave 
In  this  close  w^alk  to  satisfy  myself. 
In  craving  your  opinion  of  my  title. 
Which  is  infallible,  to  England's  crown. 

Sal.  My  lord,  I  long  to  hear  it  at  full. 

JVar.  Sweet  York,  begin  :  and  if  thy  claim  be  good, 
The  Nevils  are  thy  subjects  to  command. 

York.  Then  thus : 

Edward  the  Third,  my  lords,  had  seven  sons :  10 

The  first,  Edward  the  Black  Prince,  Prince  of  Wales  ; 
The  second,  William  of  Hatfield,  and  the  third, 
Lionel  Duke  of  Clarence ;  next  to  whom 
Was  John  of  Gaunt,  the  Duke  of  Lancaster ; 
The  fifth  was  Edmund  Langley,  Duke  of  York; 
The   sixth    was    Thomas   of    Woodstock,    Duke    of 

Gloucester ; 
William  of  Windsor  was  the  seventh  and  last. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

Edward  the  Black  Prince  died  before  his  father. 
And  left  behind  him  Richard,  his  only  son, 
Who  after  Edward  the  Third's  death  reign'd  as  king ; 
Till  Henry  Bolingbroke,  Duke  of  Lancaster,  21 

The  eldest  son  and  heir  of  John  of  Gaunt, 
Crown'd  by  the  name  of  Henry  the  Fourth, 
Seized  on  the  realm,  deposed  the  rightful  king, 
Sent  his  poor  queen  to  France,  from  whence  she  came. 
And  him  to  Pomfret ;   where,  as  all  you  know, 
Harmless  Richard  was  murder'd  traitorously. 

War.  Father,  the  duke  hath  told  the  truth  ; 

Thus  got  the  house  of  Lancaster  the  crown. 

York.  \\'hich  now  they  hold  by  force  and  not  by  right ; 
For  Richard,  the  first  son's  heir,  being  dead,  31 

The  issue  of  the  next  son  should  have  reign'd. 

Sal.  But  William  of  Hatfield  died  without  an  heir. 

York,  The  third  son,  Duke  of  Clarence,  from  whose  line 
I  claim  the  crown,  had  issue,  Philippe,  a  daughter, 
Who  married  Edmund  ^Mortimer,  Earl  of  March : 
Edmund  had  issue,  Roger  Earl  of  March ; 
Roger  had  issue,  Edmund,  Anne  and  Eleanor. 

Sal.  This  Edmund,  in  the  reign  of  Bolingbroke, 

As  I  have  read,  laid  claim  unto  the  crown ;  40 

And,  but  for  Owen  Glendower,  had  been  king. 
Who  kept  him  in  captivity  till  he  died. 
But  to  the  rest. 

York.  His  eldest  sister,  Anne, 

]\Iy  mother,  being  heir  unto  the  crown, 
Married  Richard  Earl  of  Cambridge ;   who  was  son 
To  Edmund  Langley,  Edward  the  Third's  fifth  son. 
By  her  I  claim  the  kingdom :   she  was  heir 
To  Roger  Earl  of  March,  who  was  the  son 

49 


Act  II.  Sc.  li.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Of  Edmund  Mortimer,  who  married  Philippe, 
Sole  daughter  unto  Lionel  Duke  of  Clarence :         50 
So,  if  the  issue  of  the  elder  son 
Succeed  before  the  younger,  I  am  king. 

War.  What  plain  proceeding  is  more  plain  than  this  ? 
Henry  doth  claim  the  crown  from  John  of  Gaunt, 
The  fourth  son ;  York  claims  it  from  the  third. 
Till  Lionel's  issue  fails,  his  should  not  reign : 
It  fails  not  yet,  but  flourishes  in  thee 
And  in  thy  sons,  fair  slips  of  such  a  stock. 
Then,  father  Salisbury,  kneel  we  together; 
And  in  this  private  plot  be  we  the  first  60 

That  shall  salute  our  rightful  sovereign 
With  honour  of  his  birthright  to  the  crown. 

Both.  Long  live  our  sovereign  Richard,  England's  king ! 

York.  We  thank  you,  lords.     But  I  am  not  your  king 
Till  I  be  crown 'd,  and  that  my  sword  be  stain'd 
With  heart-blood  of  the  house  of  Lancaster ; 
And  that 's  not  suddenly  to  be  perform'd, 
But  with  advice  and  silent  secrecy. 
Do  you  as  I  do  in  these  dangerous  days : 
Wink  at  the  Duke  of  Suffolk's  insolence,  70 

At  Beaufort's  pride,  at  Somerset's  ambition, 
At  Buckingham  and  all  the  crew  of  them, 
Till  they  have  snared  the  shepherd  of  the  flock, 
That  virtuous  prince,  the  good  Duke  Humphrey : 
'Tis  that  they  seek,  and  they  in  seeking  that 
Shall  find  their  deaths,  if  York  can  prophesy. 

Sal.  My  lord,  break  we  off ;   we  know  your  mind  at  full. 

War.  My  heart  assures  me  that  the  Earl  of  W^arwick 
Shall  one  day  make  the  Duke  of  York  a  king. 

York.  And,  Nevil,  this  I  do  assure  myself  80 

SO 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

Richard  shall  live  to  make  the  Earl  of  Warwick 
The  greatest  man  in  England  but  the  king. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  III. 

A  hall  of  justice. 

Sound  trumpets.  Enter  the  King,  the  Queen,  Gloucester, 
York,  Suffolk,  and  Salisbury:  the  Duchess  of  Glou- 
cester, Margery  Jonrdaiu,  Southzi'cll,  Hume,  and 
Bolingbroke,  binder  guard. 

King.  Stand  forth,  Dame  Eleanor  Cobham,  Gloucester's 
wife : 
In  sight  of  God  and  us,  your  guilt  is  great : 
Receive  the  sentence  of  the  law  for  sins 
Such  as  by  God's  book  are  adjudged  to  death. 
You  four,  from  hence  to  prison  back  again ; 
From  thence  unto  the  place  of  execution : 
The  witch  in  Smithfield  shall  be  burn'd  to  ashes, 
And  you  three  shall  be  strangled  on  the  gallows. 
You,  madam,  for  you  are  more  nobly  born. 
Despoiled  of  your  honour  in  your  life,  lo 

Shall,  after  three  days'  open  penance  done, 
Live  in  your  country  here  in  banishment, 
With  Sir  John  Stanley,  in  the  Isle  of  Man. 

Dhch.  Welcome  is  banishment;   welcome  were  my  death. 

Glou.  Eleanor,  the  law,  thou  see'st,  hath  .judged  thee: 
I  cannot  justify  whom  the  law  condemns. 

[Exeunt  Duchess  and  other  prisoners,  guarded. 
Mine  eyes  are  full  of  tears,  my  heart  of  grief. 
Ah,  Humphrey,  this  dishonour  in  thine  age 
Will  bring  thy  head  with  sorrow  to  the  ground ! 

SI 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

I  beseech  your  majesty,  give  me  leave  to  go;  20 

Sorrow  would  solace  and  mine  age  would  ease. 

King.   Stay,  Humphrey  Duke  of  Gloucester :   ere  thou  go. 
Give  up  thy  staff :   Henry  will  to  himself 
Protector  be ;  and  God  shall  be  my  hope, 
My  stay,  my  guide  and  lantern  to  my  feet : 
And  go  in  peace,  Humphrey,  no  less  beloved 
Than  when  thou  wert  protector  to  thy  king. 

Queen.  I  see  no  reason  why  a  king  of  years 
Should  be  to  be  protected  like  a  child. 
God  and  King  Henry  govern  England's  realm.         30 
Give  up  your  staff,  sir,  and  the  king  his  realm. 

Gloit.  My  staff?  here,  noble  Henry,  is  my  staff: 
As  wilHngly  do  I  the  same  resign 
As  e'er  thy  father  Henry  made  it  mine ; 
And  even  as  willingly  at  thy  feet  I  leave  it 
As  others  would  ambitiously  receive  it. 
Farewell,  good  king :  when  I  am  dead  and  gone. 
May  honourable  peace  attend  thy  throne !  [Exit. 

Queen.  Why,  now  is  Henry  king,  and  Alargaret  queen; 
And  Humphrey  Duke  of  Gloucester  scarce  himself, 
That  bears  so  shrewd  a  maim  ;  two  pulls  at  once ; 
His  lady  banish'd,  and  a  limb  lopp'd  off.  42 

This  staff  of  honour  raught,  there  let  it  stand 
Where  it  best  fits  to  be,  in  Henry's  hand. 

Suf.  Thus  droops  this  lofty  pine  and  hangs  his  sprays ; 
Thus  Eleanor's  pride  dies  in  her  youngest  days. 

York.  Lords,  let  him  go.     Please  it  your  majesty, 
This  is  the  day  appointed  for  the  combat ; 
And  ready  are  the  appellant  and  defendant. 
The  armourer  and  his  man,  to  enter  the  lists,  50 

So  please  your  highness  to  behold  the  fight. 

52 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

Queen.  Ay,  good  my  lord  ;  for  purposely  therefore 
Left  I  the  court,  to  see  this  quarrel  tried. 

King.  O'  God's  name,  see  the  lists  and  all  things  fit : 
Here  let  them  end  it ;  and  God  defend  the  right  1 

York.  I  never  saw  a  fellow  worse  bested, 

Or  more  afraid  to  fight,  than  is  the  appellant, 
The  servant  of  this  armourer,  my  lords. 

Enter  at  one  door,  Horner,  the  Armourer,  and  his 
Neighbours,  drinking  to  him  so  much  that  he  is 
drunk;  and  he  enters  with  a  drum  before  him 
and  his  staff  with  a  sand-bag  fastened  to  it;  and 
at  the  other  door  Peter,  his  man,  zvith  a  drum  and 
sand-bag,  and  'Prentices  drinking  to  him. 

First  Neigh.  Here,  neighbour  Horner,  I  drink  to  you 

in  a  cup  of  sack :   and  fear  not,  neighbour,  you     60 
shall  do  well  enough. 

Sec.  Neigh.  And  here,  neighbour,  here 's  a  cup  of 
charneco. 

Third  Neigh.  And  here  's  a  pot  of  good  double  beer, 
neighbour :   drink,  and  fear  not  your  man. 

Hor.  Let  it  come,  i'  faith,  and  I  '11  pledge  you  all ; 
and  a  fig  for  Peter ! 

First  Tren.  Here,  Peter,  I  drink  to  thee:  and  be 
not  afraid. 

Sec.  Tren.  Be  merry,  Peter,  and  fear  not  thy  master  :     70 
fight  for  credit  of  the  'prentices. 

Peter.  I  thank  you  all:  drink,  and  pray  for  me,  I 
pray  you:  for  I  think  I  have  taken  my  last 
draught  in  this  world.  Here,  Robin,  an  if  I 
die,  I  give  thee  my,  apron :  and,  Will,  thou  shalt 
have  my  hammer:    and  here,  Tom,  take  all  the 

53 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

money  that  I  have.  O  Lord  bless  me!  I  pray 
God !  for  I  am  never  able  to  deal  with  my 
master,  he  hath  learnt  so  much  fence  already. 

Sal.  Come,  leave  your  drinking,  and  fall  to  blows.     80 
Sirrah,  what 's  thy  name  ? 

Peter.  Peter,  forsooth. 

Sal.  Peter !   what  more  ? 

Peter.  Thump. 

Sal.  Thump  !   then  see  thou  thump  thy  master  well. 

Hot.  Masters,  I  am  come  hither,  as  it  w^ere,  upon 
my  man's  instigation,  to  prove  him  a  knave  and 
myself  an  honest  man :  and  touching  the  Duke 
of  York,  I  will  take  my  death,  I  never  meant 
him  any  ill,  nor  the  king,  nor  the  queen :  and  90 
therefore,  Peter,  have  at  thee  with  a  downright 
blow ! 

York.  Dispatch  :  this  knave's  tongue  begins  to  double. 
Sound,  trumpets,  alarum  to  the  combatants ! 

[Alarum.     They  fight,  and  Peter  strikes  him  dozen. 

Hor.  Hold,  Peter,  hold  !    I  confess,  I  confess  treason. 

[Dies. 

York.  Take  away  his  weapon.     Fellow,  thank  God, 
and  the  good  wine  in  thy  master's  way. 

Peter.  O  God,  have  I  overcome  mine  enemy  in  this 
presence  ?    O  Peter,  thou  hast  prevailed  in  right ! 

King.  Go,  take  hence  that  traitor  from  our  sight ;  100 

For  by  his  death  we  do  perceive  his  guilt : 
And  God  in  justice  hath  reveal'd  to  us 
The  truth  and  innocence  of  this  poor  fellow, 
\Miich  he  had  thought  to  have  murder'd  wrongfully. 
Come,  fellow,  follow  us  for  thy  reward. 

[Sound  a  flourish.    Exeunt. 

54 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IL  Sc.  iv. 

Scene  IV. 

A  street. 

Enter  Gloucester  and  his  Serving-men,  in  mourning 
cloaks. 

Gloii.  Thus  sometimes  hath  the  brightest  day  a  cloud ; 
And  after  summer  evermore  succeeds 
Barren  winter,  with  his  wrathful  nipping  cold : 
So  cares  and  joys  abound,  as  seasons  fleet. 
Sirs,  what 's  o'clock  ? 

Serv.  Ten,  my  lord. 

Gloii.  Ten  is  the  hour  that  was  appointed  me 

To  watch  the  coming  of  my  punish'd  duchess : 

Uneath  may  she  endure  the  flinty  streets, 

To  tread  them  with  her  tender-feeling  feet. 

Sweet  Xell,  ill  can  thy  noble  mind  abrook  lO 

The  abject  people  gazing  on  thy  face. 

With  envious  looks  laughing  at  thy  shame, 

That  erst  did  follow  thy  proud  chariot-wheels, 

When  thou  didst  ride  in  triumph  through  the  streets. 

But,  soft !   I  think  she  comes  ;  and  I  '11  prepare 

My  tear-stain 'd  eyes  to  see  her  miseries. 

Enter  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester  in  a  zvhite  sheet,  and  a 
taper  burning  in  her  hand;  zvith  Sir  John  Stanley, 
the  Sheriff,  and  Officers. 

Serv.  So  please  your  grace,  we  '11  take  her  from  the  sheriff. 
Glou.  No,  stir  not,  for  your  lives  ;  let  her  pass  by. 
Dnch.  Come  you,  my  lord,  to  see  my  open  shame? 

Now  thou  dost  penance  too.     Look  how  they  gaze ! 

See  how  the  giddy  multitude  do  point,  21 

And  nod  their  heads,  and  throw  their  eyes  on  thee ! 

Ah,  Gloucester,  hide  thee  from  their  hateful  looks, 

55 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And,  in  thy  closet  pent  up,  rue  mv  shame, 
And  ban  thine  enemies,  both  min^  and   hine! 

Glou.  Be  patient,  gentle  Nell ;   forget  this  grief. 

Diich.  Ah,  Gloucester,  teach  me  to  forget  myself! 
For  whilst  I  think  I  am  thy  married  wife, 
And  thou  a  prince,  protector  of  this  land, 
IMethinks  I  should  not  thus  be  led  along,  30 

IMail'd  up  in  shame,  with  papers  on  my  back. 
And  foUow'd  with  a  rabble  that  rejoice 
To  see  my  tears  and  hear  my  deep-fet  groans. 
The  ruthless  flint  doth  cut  my  tender  feet. 
And  when  I  start,  the  envious  people  laugh, 
And  bid  me  be  advised  how  I  tread. 
Ah,  Humphrey,  can  I  bear  this  shameful  yoke? 
Trow'st  thou  that  e'er  I'll  look  upon  the  world. 
Or  count  them  happy  that  enjoy  the  sun  ? 
No ;  dark  shall  be  my  light  and  night  my  day  ;        40 
To  think  upon  my  pomp  shall  be  my  hell. 
Sometime  I  '11  say,  I  am  Duke  Humphrey's  wife. 
And  he  a  prince  and  ruler  of  the  land  : 
Yet  so  he  ruled,  and  such  a  prince  he  was. 
As  he  stood  by  whilst  I,  his  forlorn  duchess. 
Was  made  a  wonder  and  a  pointing-stock 
To  every  idle  rascal  follower. 
But  be  thou  mild  and  blush  not  at  my  shame. 
Nor  stir  at  nothing  till  the  axe  of  death 
Hang  over  thee,  as,  sure,  it  shortly  will ;  50 

For  Suffolk — he  that  can  do  all  in  all 
W^ith  her  that  hateth  thee  and  hates  us  all — 
And  York  and  impious  Beaufort,  that  false  priest. 
Have  all  limed  bushes  to  betray  thy  wings. 
And,  fly  thou  how  thou  canst,  they  '11  tangle  thee : 

56 


KING  HENRY  VL  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

But  fear  not  tliou,  until  thy  foot  be  snared, 
Nor  never  seek  prevention  of  thy  foes. 
Gloit.  Ah,  Xell,  forbear!  thou  aimest  all  awry; 
I  must  offend  before  I  be  attainted ; 
And  had  1  twenty, times  so  many  foes,  60 

And  each  of  them  had  twenty  times  their  power, 
All  these  could  not  procure  me  any  scathe, 
So  long  as  I  am  loyal,  true  and  crimeless. 
Wouldst  have  me  rescue  thee  from  this  reproach  ? 
Why,  yet  thy  scandal  were  not  wnped  away. 
But  I  in  danger  for  the  breach  of  law. 
Thy  greatest  help  is  quiet,  gentle  Nell : 
I  pray  thee,  sort  thy  heart  to  patience ; 
These  few  days'  wonder  will  be  quickly  worn. 

Enter  a  Herald. 

Her.  I  summon  your  grace  to  his  majesty's  parliament, 
Holden  at  Bury  the  first  of  this  next  month.  71 

Gloti.  And  my  consent  ne'er  ask'd  herein  before ! 
This  is  close  dealing.    Well,  I  will  be  there. 

[Exit  Herald. 
My  Nell,  I  take  my  leave  :  and,  master  sheriff. 
Let  not  her  penance  exceed  the  king's  commission. 

Sher.  An  't  please  your  grace,  here  my  commission  stays, 
And  Sir  John  Stanley  is  appointed  now 
To  take  her  with  him  to  the  Isle  of  Man. 

Gloii.  Must  you.  Sir  John,  protect  my  lady  here? 

Stan.   So  am  I  given  in  charge,  may  't  please  your  grace. 

Gloii.  Entreat  her  not  the  worse  in  that  I  pray  81 

You  use  her  well :  the  world  may  laugh  again ; 
And  I  may  live  to  do  you  kindness  if 
You  do  it  her  :   and  so.  Sir  John,  farewell ! 

57 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Duch.  What,  gone,  my  lord,  and  bid  me  not  farewell ! 
Glou.  Witness  my  tears,  I  cannot  stay  to  speak. 

[Exeunt  Gloucester  and  Serving-men. 
Duch.  Art  thou  gone  too  ?  all  comfort  go  with  thee ! 

For  none  abides  with  me:  my  joy  is  death, — 

Death,  at  whose  name  I  oft  have  been  afear'd, 

Because  I  wish'd  this  world's  eternity.  90 

Stanley,  I  prithee,  go,  and  take  me  hence ; 

I  care  not  whither,  for  I  beg  no  favour, 

Only  convey  me  where  thou  art  commanded. 
Stan.  Why,  madam,  that  is  to  the  Isle  of  Man ; 

There  to  be  used  according  to  your  state. 
Duch.  That 's  bad  enough,  for  I  am  but  reproach : 

And  shall  I  then  be  used  reproachfully  ? 
Stan.  Like  to  a  duchess,  and  Duke  Humphrey's  lady ; 

According  to  that  state  you  shall  be  used. 
Duch.  Sheriff,  farewell,  and  better  than  I  fare,  100 

Although  thou  hast  been  conduct  of  my  shame. 
Sher.  It  is  my  office ;  and,  madam,  pardon  me. 
Duch.  Ay,  ay,  farewell ;  thy  office  is  discharged. 

Come,  Stanley,  shall  we  go? 
Stan.  Madam,  your  penance  done,  throw  off  this  sheet, 

And  go  we  to  attire  you  for  our  journey. 
Duch.  My  shame  will  not  be  shifted  with  my  sheet : 

No,' it  will  hang  upon  my  richest  robes, 

And  show  itself,  attire  me  how  I  can. 

Go,  lead  the  way ;  I  long  to  see  my  prison.  no 

[Exe^mt. 


58 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

The  Abbey  at  Bury  Saint  Edmund's. 

Sound  a  Sennet.  Enter  King,  Queen,  Cardinal  Beaufort, 
Suffolk,  York,  Buckingham,  Salisbury  and  Warwick 
to  the  Parliament. 

King.  I  muse  my  Lord  of  Gloucester  is  not  come : 
'Tis  not  his  wont  to  be  the  hindmost  man, 
Whate'er  occasion  keeps  him  from  us  now. 

Queen.  Can  you  not  see?  or  will  ye  not  observe 
The  strangeness  of  his  alter'd  countenance? 
With  what  a  majesty  he  bears  himself, 
How  insolent  of  late  he  is  become, 
How  proud,  how  peremptory,  and  unlike  himself  ? 
We  know  the  time  since  he  was  mild  and  affable, 
And  if  we  did  but  glance  a  far-off  look,  lo 

Immediately  he  was  upon  his  knee. 
That  all  the  court  admired  him  for  submission  : 
But  meet  him  now,  and,  be  it  in  the  morn, 
When  every  one  will  give  the  time  of  day, 
He  knits  his  brow  and  shows  an  angry  eye, 
And  passeth  by  with  stiff  unbowed  knee. 
Disdaining  duty  that  to  us  belongs. 
Small  curs  are  not  regarded  when  they  grin ; 
But  great  men  tremble  when  the  lion  roars ; 
And  Humphrey  is  no  little  man  in  England.  20 

First  note  that  he  is  near  you  in  descent, 
And  should  you  fall,  he  is  the  next  will  mount. 
Me  seemeth  then  it  is  no  policy. 
Respecting  what  a  rancorous  mind  he  bears. 
And  his  advantage  following  your  decease, 

59 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

That  he  should  come  about  your  royal  person,. 
Or  be  admitted  to  your  highness'  council. 
By  flattery  hath  he  won  the  commons'  hearts, 
And  when  he  please  to  make  commotion, 
'Tis  to  be  fear'd  they  all  will  follow  him.  30 

Now  'tis  the  spring,  and  weeds  are  shallow-rooted ; 
Suffer  them  now,  and  they  '11  o'ergrow  the  garden, 
And  choke  the  herbs  for  want  of  husbandry. 
The  reverent  care  I  bear  unto  my  lord 
Made  me  collect  these  dangers  in  the  duke. 
If  it  be  fond,  call  it  a  woman's  fear  ; 
Which  fear  if  better  reasons  can  supplant, 
I  will  subscribe  and  say  I  wrong'd  the  duke. 
My  Lord  of  Suffolk,  Buckingham,  and  York, 
Reprove  my  allegation,  if  you  can  ;  40 

Or  else  conclude  my  words  effectual. 
Suf.  Well  hath  your  highness  seen  into  this  duke ; 
And,  had  I  first  been  put  to  speak  my  mind, 
I  think  I  should  have  told  your  grace's  tale. 
The  duchess  by  his  subornation. 
Upon  my  Hfe,  began  her  devilish  practices : 
Or,  if  he  were  not  privy  to  those  faults. 
Yet,  by  reputing  of  his  high  descent. 
As  next  the  king  he  was  successive  heir, 
And  such  high  vaunts  of  his  nobility,  50 

Did  instigate  the  bedlam  brain-sick  duchess 
By  wicked  means  to  frame  our  sovereign's  fall. 
Smooth  runs  the  water  where  the  brook  is  deep  ; 
And  in  his  simple  show  he  harbours  treason. 
The  fox  barks  not  when  he  would  steal  the  lamb. 
No,  no,  my  sovereign  ;  Gloucester  is  a  man 
Unsounded  yet  and  full  of  deep  deceit. 
60 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Car.  Did  he  not,  contrary  to  form  of  law, 

Devise  strange  deaths  for  small  offences  done  ? 

York.  And  did  he  not,  in  his  protectorship,  60 

Levy  great  sums  of  money  through  the  realm 
For  soldiers'  pay  in  France,  and  never  sent  it  ? 
By  means  whereof  the  towns  each  day  revolted. 

Buck.  Tut,  these  are  petty  faults  to  faults  unknown. 

Which   time   will   bring   to   light    in    smooth    Duke 
Humphrey. 

King.  My  lords,  at  once :   the  care  you  have  of  us. 
To  mow  down  thorns  that  would  annoy  our  foot, 
Is  worthy  praise  :  but,  shall  I  speak  my  conscience, 
Our  kinsman  Gloucester  is  as  innocent 
From  meaning  treason  to  our  royal  person,  70 

As  is  the  sucking  lamb  or  harmless  dove : 
The  duke  is  virtuous,  mild  and  too  well  given 
To  dream  on  evil  or  to  work  my  downfall. 

Queen.  Ah,  what's  more  dangerous  than  this  fond  affiance  ! 
Seems  he  a  dove  ?  his  feathers  are  but  borrow'd. 
For  he  's  disposed  as  the  hateful  raven : 
Is  he  a  lamb  ?  his  skin  is  surely  lent  him, 
For  he  's  inclined  as  is  the  ravenous  wolf. 
Who  cannot  steal  a  shape  that  means  deceit  ? 
Take  heed,  my  lord  ;   the  welfare  of  us  all  80 

Hangs  on  the  cutting  short  that  fraudful  man. 

Enter  Somerset. 

Som.  All  health  unto  my  gracious  sovereign ! 

King.  Welcome,  Lord  Somerset.  What  news  from  France  ? 

Som.  That  all  your  interest  in  those  territories 

Is  utterly  bereft  you  ;  all  is  lost. 
King,  Cold  news.  Lord  Somerset :  but  God's  will  be  done ! 

61 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

York.  [Aside]  Cold  news  for  me  ;  for  I  had  hope  of  France 
As  firmly  as  I  hope  for  fertile  England. 
Thus  are  my  blossoms  blasted  in  the  bud, 
And  caterpillars  eat  my  leaves  away ;  90 

But  I  will  remedy  this  gear  ere  long, 
Or  sell  my  title  for  a  glorious  grave. 

Enter  Gloucester. 

Gloii.  All  happiness  unto  my  lord  the  king! 

Pardon,  my  liege,  that  I  have  stay'd  so  long. 

Siif.  Nay,  Gloucester,  know  that  thou  art  come  too  soon, 
Unless  thou  wert  more  loyal  than  thou  art : 
I  do  arrest  thee  of  high  treason  here. 

Glou.  Well,  Sufifolk,  thou  shalt  not  see  me  blush. 
Nor  change  my  countenance  for  this  arrest : 
A  heart  unspotted  is  not  easily  daunted.  100 

The  purest  spring  is  not  so  free  from  mud 
As  I  am  clear  from  treason  to  my  sovereign : 
Who  can  accuse  me  ?  wherein  am  I  guilty  ? 

York.  'Tis  thought,  my  lord,  that  you  took  bribes  of  France, 
And,  being  protector,  stay'd  the  soldiers'  pay ; 
By  means  whereof  his  highness  hath  lost  France. 

Glou.  Is  it  but  thought  so  ?  what  are  they  that  think  it  ? 
I  never  robb'd  the  soldiers  of  their  pay. 
Nor  ever  had  one  penny  bribe  from  France. 
So  help  me  God,  as  I  have  watch'd  the  night,        no 
Ay,  night  by  night,  in  studying  good  for  England ! 
That  doit  that  e'er  I  wrested  from  the  king, 
Or  any  groat  I  hoarded  to  my  use. 
Be  brought  against  me  at  my  trial-day ! 
No ;  many  a  pound  of  mine  own  proper  store. 
Because  I  would  not  tax  the  needy  commons, 

62 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Have  I  dispursed  to  the  garrisons. 
And  never  ask'd  for  restitution. 

Car.  It  serves  you  well,  my  lord,  to  say  so  much. 

Clou.  I  say  no  more  than  truth,  so  help  me  God  !  120 

York.   In  your  protectorship  you  did  devise 

Strange  tortures  for  offenders  never  heard  of, 
That  England  was  defamed  by  tyranny. 

GIou.  Why,  'tis  well  known  that,  whiles  I  was  protector, 
Pity  was  all  the  fault  that  was  in  me ; 
For  I  should  melt  ai  an  offender's  tears. 
And  lowly  words  were  ransom  for  their  fault. 
Unless  it  were  a  bloody  murderer, 
Or  foul  felonious  thief  that  fleeced  poor  passengers, 
I  never  gave  them  condign  punishment :  130 

Murder  indeed,  that  bloody  sin,  I  tortured 
Above  the  felon  or  what  trespass  else. 

Suf.  My  lord,  these  faults  are  easy,  quickly  answer'd  : 
But  mightier  crimes  are  laid  unto  your  charge, 
Whereof  you  cannot  easily  purge  yourself. 
I  do  arrest  you  in  his  highness'  name : 
And  here  commit  you  to  my  lord  cardinal 
To  keep,  until  your  further  time  of  trial. 

King.  My  Lord  of  Gloucester,  'tis  my  special  hope 

That  you  will  clear  yourself  from  all  suspect :  140 

My  conscience  tells  me  }()u  are  innocent. 

Clou.  Ah,  gracious  lord,  these  days  are  dangerous : 
Virtue  is  choked  with  foul  ambition, 
And  charity  chased  hence  by  rancour's  hand  ; 
Foul  subornation  is  predominant. 
And  equity  exiled  your  highness'  land. 
T  know  their  complot  is  to  have  my  life ; 
And  if  my  death  might  make  this  island  happy, 

63 


Act  lII.Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And  prove  the  period  of  their  tyranny, 

I  would  expend  it  with  all  willingness  :  150 

But  mine  is  made  the  prologue  to  their  play : 

For  thousands  more,  that  yet  suspect  no  peril, 

Will  not  conclude  their  plotted  tragedy. 

Beaufort's  red  sparkling  eyes  blab  his  heart's  malice, 

And  Suffolk's  cloudy  brow  his  stormy  hate  ; 

Sharp  Buckingham  unburthens  wnth  his  tongue 

The  envious  load  that  lies  upon  his  heart ; 

And  dogged  York,  that  reaches  at  the  moon, 

Whose  overweening  arm  I  have  pluck'd  back. 

By  false  accuse  doth  level  at  my  life :  160 

And  you,  my  sovereign  lady,  with  the  rest. 

Causeless  have  laid  disgraces  on  my  head. 

And  with  your  best  endeavour  have  stirr'd  up 

My  liefest  liege  to  be  mine  enemy : 

Ay,  all  of  you  have  laid  your  heads  together — 

Myself  had  notice  of  your  conventicles — 

And  all  to  make  away  my  guiltless  life. 

I  shall  not  waiiit  false  witness  to  condemn  me. 

Nor  store  of  treasons  to  augment  my  guilt ; 

The  ancient  proverb  will  be  well  effected  :  170 

*  A  staff  is  quickly  found  to  beat  a  dog.' 

Car.  My  liege,  his  railing  is  intolerable : 

If  those  that  care  to  keep  your  royal  person 
From  treason's  secret  knife  and  traitors'  rage. 
Be  thus  upbraided,  chid  and  rated  at. 
And  the  offender  granted  scope  of  speech, 
'Twill  make  them  cool  in  zeal  unto  your  grace. 

Suf.  Hath  he  not  twit  our  sovereign  lady  here 

With  ignominious  words,  though  clerkly  couch'd. 
As  if  she  had  suborned  some  to  swear  180 

64 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

False  allegations  to  o'ertlirow  his  state? 

Queen.  But  I  can  give  the  loser  leave  to  chide. 

Gloii.  Far  truer  spoke  than  meant:   I  lose,  indeed; 
Beshrew  the  winners,  for  they  play'd  me  false ! 
And  well  such  losers  may  have  leave  to  speak. 

Buck,  He  '11  wrest  the  sense  and  hold  us  here  all  day : 
Lord  cardinal,  he  is  your  prisoner. 

Car.  Sirs,  take  away  the  duke,  and  guard  him  sure. 

Glou.  Ah !  thus  King  Henry  throws  away  his  crutch, 

Before  his  legs  be  firm  to  bear  his  body.  190 

Thus  is  the  shepherd  beaten  from  thy  side, 
And  wolves  are  gnarling  who  shall  gnaw  thee  first. 
Ah,  that  my  fear  were  false !   ah,  that  it  were ! 
For,  good  King  Henry,  thy  decay  I  fear. 

[  Exit,  guarded. 

King.  My  lords,  what  to  your  wisdom  seemeth  best. 
Do  or  undo,  as  if  ourself  were  here. 

Queen.   What,  will  your  highness  leave  the  Parliament? 

King.  Ay,  Margaret ;  my  heart  is  drown'd  with  grief. 
Whose  flood  begins  to  flow  within  mine  eyes. 
My  body  round  engirt  with  miser \-,  200 

For  what  "s  more  miserable  than  discontent? 
Ah,  uncle  Humphrey !   in  thy  face  1  see 
The  map  of  honour,  truth  and  loyalty : 
And  yet,  good  Humphrey,  is  the  hour  to  come 
That  e'er  I  proved  thee  false  or  fear'd  thy  faith. 
What  louring  star  now  envies  thy  estate. 
That  these  great  lords  and  ^largaret  our  queen 
Do  seek  subversion  of  thy  harmless  life? 
Thou  never  didst  them  wrong  nor  no  man  wrong ; 
And  as  the  butcher  takes  away  the  calf,  210 

And  binds  the  wTetch,  and  beats  it  when  it  strays, 

65 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Bearing  it  to  the  bloody  slaughter-house, 
Even  so  remorseless  have  they  borne  him  hence ; 
And  as  the  dam  runs  lowing  up  and  down, 
Looking  the  way  her  harmless  young  one  went, 
And  can  do  nought  but  wail  her  darling's  loss, 
Even  so  myself  bewails  good  Gloucester's  case 
With  sad  unhelpful  tears,  and  with  dimm'd  eyes 
Look  after  him  and  cannot  do  him  good, 
So  mighty  are  his  vowed  enemies.  220 

His  fortunes  I  will  weep,  and  'twixt  each  groan 
■  Say  '  Who's  a  traitor?     Gloucester  he  is  none.' 
[Exeunt  all  hut  Queen,  Cardinal  Beaufort,  Suffolk, 
and  York..    Somerset  remains  apart. 
Queen.  Free  lords,  cold  snow  melts  with  the  sun's  hot  beams. 
Henry  my  lord  is  cold  in  great  affairs. 
Too  full  of  foolish  pity,  and  Gloucester's  show 
Beguiles  him,  as  the  mournful  crocodile 
With  sorrow  snares  relenting  passengers, 
Or  as  the  snake  roll'd  in  a  flowering  bank, 
With  shining  checkered  slough,  doth  sting  a  child 
That  for  the  beauty  thinks  it  excellent.  230 

Believe  me,  lords,  were  none  more  wise  than  I — 
And  yet  herein  I  judge  mine  own  wit  good — 
This  Gloucester  should  be  quickly  rid  the  world, 
To  rid  us  from  the  fear  we  have  of  him. 

Car.  That  he  should  die  is  worthy  policy  ; 
But  yet  we  want  a  colour  for  his  death : 
'Tis  meet  he  be  condemn'd  by  course  of  law. 

Suf.  But,  in  my  mind,  that  were  no  policy : 
The  king  will  labour  still  to  save  his  life. 
The  commons  haply  rise,  to  save  his  life ;  240 

And  yet  we  have  but  trivial  argument, 

66  _-^' 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

More  than  mistrust,  that  shows  him  worthy  death. 

York.  So  that,  by  this,  you  would  not  have  him  die. 

Siif.  Ah,  York,  no  man  aHve  so  fain  as  I ! 

York.  'Tis  York  that  liath  more  reason  for  his  death. 
But,  my  lord  cardinal,  and  you,  my  Lord  of  Suffolk. 
Say  as  you  think,  and  speak  it  from  your  souls : 
Were  't  not  all  one,  an  empty  eagle  were  set 
To  guard  the  chicken  from  a  hungry  kite, 
As  place  Duke  Humphrey  for  the  king's  protector? 

Queen.  So  the  poor  chicken  should  be  sure  of  death.     25 T 

Siif.  Madam,  'tis  true  ;  and  were  't  not  madness,  then, 
To  make  the  fox  surveyor  of  the  fold  : 
Who  being  accused  a  crafty  murderer. 
His  guilt  should  be  but  idly  posted  over. 
Because  his  purpose  is  not  executed. 
No ;  let  him  die,  in  that  he  is  a  fox, 
By  nature  proved  an  enemy  to  the  flock. 
Before  his  chaps  be  stain'd  with  crimson  blood, 
As  Humphrey,  proved  by  reasons,  to  my  liege.       260 
And  do  not  stand  on  quillets  how  to  slay  him  : 
Be  it  by  gins,  by  snares,  by  subtlety. 
Sleeping  or  waking,  'tis  no  matter  how. 
So  he  be  dead  ;   for  that  is  good  deceit 
Which  mates  him  first  that  first  intends  deceit. 

Queen.  Thrice-noble  Sufifolk,  'tis  resolutely  spoke. 

Siif.  Not  resolute,  except  so  much  were  done  : 

For  things  are  often  spoke  and  seldom  meant : 
But  that  my  heart  accordeth  with  my  tongue, 
Seeing  the  deed  is  meritorious,  270 

And  to  preserve  my  sovereign  from  his  foe. 
Say  but  the  word,  and  T  will  be  his  priest. 

Car.  But  I  would  have  him  dead,  my  Lord  of  Suffolk, 

67 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Ere  you  can  take  due  orders  for  a  priest : 

Say  you  consent  and  censure  well  the  deed, 

And  I'll  provide  his  executioner, 

I  tender  so  the  safety  of  my  liege. 
Suf,  Here  is  my  hand,  the  deed  is  worthy  doing-. 
Queen,  And  so  say  I. 
York.  And  I :  and  now  we  three  have  spoke  it,  280 

It  skills  not  greatly  who  impugns  our  doom. 

Enter  a  Post. 

Post.  Great  lords,  from  Ireland  am  I  come  amain. 
To  signify  that  rebels  there  are  up, 
And  put  the  Englishmen  unto  the  sword : 
Send  succours,  lords,  and  stop  the  rage  betime, 
Before  the  wound  do  grow  uncurable  ; 
For,  being  green,  there  is  great  hope  of  help. 

Car.  A  breach  that  craves  a  quick  expedient  stop ! 
What  counsel  give  you  in  this  weighty  cause? 

York.  That  Somerset  be  sent  as  regent  thither :  290 

Tis  meet  that  lucky  ruler  be  employ'd ; 
Witness  the  fortune  he  hath  had  in  France. 

Som.   If  York,  with  all  his  far-fet  policy. 

Had  been  the  regent  there  instead  of  me, 
He  never  would  have  stay'd  in  France  so  long. 

York.  No,  not  to  lose  it  all,  as  thou  hast  done : 
I  rather  would  have  lost  my  life  betimes 
Than  bring  a  burthen  of  dishonour  home, 
By  staying  there  so  long  till  all  were  lost. 
Show  me  one  scar  character'd  on  thy  skin  :  300 

Alen's  flesh  preserved  so  whole  do  seldom  win. 

Queeji.  Nay,  then,  this  spark  will  prove  a  raging  fire. 
If  wind  and  fuel  be  brought  to  feed  it  with : 

68 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Xo  more,  good  York  ;   sweet  Somerset,  be  still : 
Thv  fortune,  York,  hadst  thou  been  regent  there. 
Might  happily  have  proved  far  worse  than  his. 

York.  What,  worse  than  nought?  nay,  then,  a  shame 
take  all ! 

Som.  And,  in  the  number,  thee  that  wishest  shame  ! 

Car.   \[y  Lord  of  York,  try  what  your  fortune  is. 

The  uncivil  kernes  of  Ireland  are  in  arms,  310 

And  temper  clay  with  blood  of  Englishmen  : 
•To  Ireland  will  you  lead  a  band  of  men, 
Collected  choicely,  from  each  county  some, 
And  try  your  hap  against  the  Irishmen  ? 

York.  I  will,  my  lord,  so  please  his  majesty. 

Suf.  Why,  our  authority  is  his  consent. 
And  what  we  do  establish  he  confirms  : 
Then,  noble  York,  take  thou  this  task  in  hand. 

York.  I  am  content :  provide  me  soldiers,  lords, 

Whiles  I  take  order  for  mine  own  affairs.  320 

Suf.  A  charge.  Lord  York,  that  I  will  see  perform'd. 
But  now  return  we  to  the  false  Duke  Humphrey. 

Car.  Xo  more  of  him  ;  for  I  will  deal  with  him, 
That  henceforth  he  shall  trouble  us  no  more. 
And  so  break  off  ;  the  day  is  almost  spent : 
Lord  Suffolk,  you  and  I  must  talk  of  that  event. 

York.  My  Lord  of  Suffolk,  within  fourteen  days 
At  Bristol  I  expect  my  soldiers ; 
For  there  I  '11  ship  them  all  for  Ireland. 

Suf.  I  '11  see  it  truly  done,  my  Lord  of  York.  330 

[Exeunt  all  but  York. 

York,  Xow,  York,  or  never,  steel  thy  fearful  thoughts, 
And  change  misdoubt  to  resolution : 
Be  that  thou  hopest  to  be,  or  wdiat  thou  art 

69 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Resign  to  death;   it  is  not  worth  the  enjoying: 
Let  pale-faced  fear  keep  with  the  mean-born  man, 
And  find  no  harbour  in  a  royal  heart. 
Faster  than  spring-time  showers  comes  thought  on 

thought, 
And  not  a  thought  but  thinks,  on  dignity. 
My  brain  more  busy  than  the  labouring  spider 
Weaves  tedious  snares  to  trap  mine  enemies.  340 

Well,  nobles,  well,  'tis  politicly  done. 
To  send  me  packing  with  an  host  of  men : 
I  fear  me  you  but  warm  the  starved  snake. 
Who,  cherish'd  in  your  breasts,  will  sting  your  hearts. 
'Twas  men  I  lack'd,  and  you  will  give  them  me : 
I  take  it  kindly ;  yet  be  well  assured 
You  put  sharp  weapons  in  a  madman's  hands. 
Whiles  I  in  Ireland  nourish  a  mighty  band, 
I  will  stir  up  in  England  some  black  storm 
Shall  blow  ten  thousand  souls  to  heaven  or  hell ; 
And  this  fell  tempest  shall  not  cease  to  rage  351 

Until  the  golden  circuit  on  my  head, 
Like  to  the  glorious  sun's  transparent  beams. 
Do  calm  the  fury  of  this  mad-bred  flaw. 
And,  for  a  minister  of  my  intent, 
I  have  seduced  a  headstrong  Kentishman, 
John  Cade  of  Ashford, 
To  make  commotion,  as  full  well  he  can, 
Under  the  title  of  John  Mortimer. 
In  Ireland  have  I  seen  this  stubborn  Cade  360 

Oppose  himself  against  a  troop  of  kernes, 
And  fought  so  long,  till  that  his  thighs  with  darts 
Were  almost  like  a  sharp-quill'd  porpentine ; 
And,  in  the  end  being  rescued,  I  have  seen 
70 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Him  caper  upright  like  a  wild  Morisco, 

Shaking  the  bloody  darts  as  he  his  bells. 

Full  often,  like  a  shag-hair'd  crafty  kerne, 

Hath  he  conversed  with  the  enemy, 

And  undiscover'd  come  to  me  again, 

And  given  me  notice  of  their  villanies.  370 

This  devil  here  shall  be  my  substitute ; 

For  that  John  Mortimer,  which  now  is  dead, 

In  face,  in  gait,  in  speech,  he  doth  resemble : 

By  this  I  shall  perceive  the  commons'  mind, 

How  they  affect  the  house  and  claim  of  York. 

Say  he  be  taken,  rack'd  and  tortured, 

I  know  no  pain  they  can  inflict  upon  him 

Will  make  him  say  I  moved  him  to  those  arms. 

Say  that  he  thrive,  as  'tis  great  like  he  will, 

AMiy,  then  from  Ireland  come  I  with  my  strength. 

And  reap  the  harvest  which  that  rascal  sow'd ;       381 

For  Humphrey  being  dead,  as  he  shall  be, 

And  Henry  put  apart,  the  next  for  me.  [Exit. 

Scene  II. 

Bury  St.  Edmund's.     A  room  of  state. 
Enter  certain  Murderers,  hastily. 

First  Mur.  Run  to  my  Lord  of  Suffolk  ;  let  him  know 
We  have  dispatch'd  the  duke,  as  he  commanded. 

Sec.  Mur.  O  that  it  were  to  do !     What  have  we  done  ? 
Didst  ever  hear  a  man  so  penitent  ? 

Enter  Suffolk. 

First  Mur.  Here  comes  my  lord. 
Suf.  Now,  sirs,  have  you  dispatch'd  this  thing? 

71 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

First  Mur.  Ay,  my  good  lord,  he  's  dead. 

Siif.  Why,  that  's  well  said.    Go,  get  you  to  my  house ; 

I  will  reward  you  for  this  venturous  deed. 

The  king  and  all  the  peers  are  here  at  hand.  lo 

Have  you  laid  fair  the  bed  ?    Is  all  things  well, 

According  as  I  gave  directions? 
First  Mur.  Tis,  my  good  lord. 
Stif.  Away  !  be  gone.  [Exeunt  Murderers. 

Sound  trumpets.     Enter  the  King,  the  Queen, 
Cardinal  Beaufort,  Somerset,  with  Attendants. 

King.  Go,  call  our  uncle  to  our  presence  straight ; 

Say  we  intend  to  try  his  grace  to-day. 

If  he  be  guilty,  as  'tis  published. 
Suf.  I  '11  call  him  presently,  my  noble  lord.  [Exit. 

King.  Lords,  take  your  places  ;  and,  I  pray  you  all, 

Proceed  no  straiter  'gainst  our  uncle  Gloucester       20 

Than  from  true  evidence  of  good  esteem 

He  be  approved  in  practice  culpable. 
Queen.  God  forbid  any  malice  should  prevail. 

That  faultless  may  condemn  a  nobleman ! 

Pray  God  he  may  acquit  him  of  suspicion ! 
King.  I  thank  thee,  Nell ;   these  words  content  me  much. 

Re-enter  Suffolk. 

How  now  !  why  look'st  thou  pale?  why  tremblest  thou  ? 

\Miere  is  our  uncle  ?  what 's  the  matter,  Suffolk  ? 
Suf.  Dead  in  his  bed,  my  lord  ;  Gloucester  is  dead. 
Queen.  Marry,  God  forfend !       ,  30 

Car.  God's  secret  judgement :   I  did  dream  to-night 

The  duke  was  dumb  and  could  not  speak  a  word. 

[The  King  swoor^. 

72 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Queen.  How  fares  my  lord?  Help,  lords  !  the  king  is 
dead. 

Som.  Rear  up  his  body ;  wring  him  by  the  nose. 

Queen.  Run,  go,  help,  help !    O  Henry,  ope  thine  eyes ! 

Snf.  He  doth  revive  again  :  madam,  be  patient. 

King.  O  heavenly  God  ! 

Queen.  How  fares  my  gracious  lord? 

Suf.  Comfort,  my  sovereign  !  gracious  Henry,  comfort ! 

King.  What,  doth  my  Lord  of  Suffolk  comfort  me  ? 

Came  he  right  now  to  sing  a  raven's  note,  40 

Whose  dismal  tune  bereft  my  vital  powers  ; 

And  thinks  he  that  the  chirping  of  a  wren, 

By  crying  comfort  from  a  hollow  breast. 

Can  chase  away  the  first-conceived  sound  ? 

Hide  not  thy  poison  with  such  sugar'd  words  ; 

Lay  not  thy  hands  on  me  ;  forbear,  I  say  ; 

Their  touch  affrights  me  as  a  serpent's  sting. 

Thou  baleful  messenger,  out  of  my  sight ! 

Upon  thy  eye-balls  murderous  tyranny 

Sits  in  grim  majesty,  to  fright  the  world.  60 

Look  not  upon  me,  for  thine  eyes  are  wounding : 

Yet  do  not  go  away  :   come,  basilisk. 

And  kill  the  innocent  gazer  with  thy  sight ; 

For  in  the  shade  of  death  I  shall  find  joy ; 

In  life  but  double  death,  now  Gloucester  's  dead. 

Queen.  Why  do  you  rate  my  Lord  of  Suffolk  thus  ? 
Although  the  duke  was  enemy  to  him. 
Yet  he  most  Christian-like  laments  his  death  : 
And  for  myself,  foe  as  he  was  to  me. 
Might  liquid  tears,  or  heart-offending  groans,  60 

Or  blood-consuming  sighs  recall  his  life, 
I  would  be  blind  with  weeping,  sick  with  groans. 
Look  pale  as  primrose  with  blood-drinking  sighs, 

73 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And  all  to  have  the  noble  duke  alive. 

What  know  I  how  the  world  may  deem  of  me  ? 

For  it  is  known  we  were  but  hollow  friends : 

It  may  be  judged  I  made  the  duke  away ; 

So  shall  my  name  with  slander's  tongue  be  wounded, 

And  princes'  courts  be  fill'd  with  my  reproach. 

This  get  I  by  his  death  :  ay  me,  unhappy !  70 

To  be  a  queen,  and  crown'd  with  infamy ! 

Ki)ig.  Ah,  woe  is  me  for  Gloucester,  wretched  man ! 

Queen.  Be  woe  for  me,  more  wretched  than  he  is. 
W  hat,  dost  thou  turn  away  and  hide  thy  face  ? 
I  am  no  loathsome  leper ;  look  on  me. 
What !  art  thou,  like  the  adder,  waxen  deaf  ? 
Be  poisonous  too  and  kill  thy  forlorn  queen. 
Is  all  thy  comfort  shut  in  Gloucester's  tomb? 
Why,  then,  dame  Eleanor  was  ne'er  thy  joy. 
Erect  his  statue  and  worship  it,  80 

And  make  my  image  but  an  alehouse  sign. 
Was  I  for  this  nigh  wreck'd  upon  the  sea. 
And  twice  by  awkward  wind  from  England's  bank 
Drove  back  again  unto  my  native  clime  ? 
\Miat  boded  this,  but  well  forewarning  wind 
Did  seem  to  say  '  Seek  not  a  scorpion's  nest. 
Nor  set  no  footing  on  this  unkind  shore  '  ? 
What  did  I  then,  but  cursed  the  gentle  gusts. 
And  he  that  loosed  them  forth  their  brazen  caves  : 
And  bid  them  blow  towards  England's  blessed  shore, 
Or  turn  our  stern  upon  a  dreadful  rock?  91 

Yet  ^olus  would  not  be  a  murderer. 
But  left  that  hateful  office  imto  thee : 
The  pretty-vaulting  sea  refused  to  drown  me, 
Knowing  that  thou  wouldst  have  me  drown'd  on 
shore, 

74 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

With  tears  as  salt  as  sea,  through  thy  unkindness  : 

The  spHtting  rocks  cower'd  in  the  sinking  sands, 

And  would  not  dash  me  with  their  ragged  sides, 

Because  thy  flinty  heart,  more  hard  than  they, 

Might  in  thy  palace  perish  Eleanor.  loo 

As  far  as  I  could  ken  thy  chalky  cliffs. 

When  from  thy  shore  the  tempest  beat  us  back, 

I  stood  upon  the  hatches  in  the  storm, 

And  when  the  dusky  sky  began  to  rob 

My  earnest-gaping  sight  of  thy  land's  view, 

I  took  a  costly  jewel  from  my  neck — 

A  heart  it  was,  bound  in  with  diamonds — 

And  threw  it  towards  thy  land  :  the  sea  received  it, 

And  so  I  wish'd  thy  body  might  my  heart : 

And  even  with  this  I  lost  fair  England's  view,         i  lo 

And  bid  mine  eyes  be  packing  with  my  heart. 

And  call'd  them  blind  and  dusky  spectacles, 

For  losing  ken  of  Albion's  wished  coast. 

How  often  have  I  tempted  Suffolk's  tongue. 

The  agent  of  thy  foul  inconstancy. 

To  sit  and  witch  me,  as  Ascanius  did. 

When  he  to  madding  Dido  would  unfold 

His  father's  acts  commenced  in  burning  Troy ! 

Am  I  not  witch'd  like  her  ?  or  thou  not  false  like  him  ? 

Ay  me,  I  can  no  more !   die,  Eleanor !  120 

For  Henry  weeps  that  thou  dost  live  so  long. 

Noise  zvithin.     Enter  IVarzcick,  Salisbury,  and 
many  Commons. 

War.  It  is  reported,  mighty  sovereign. 

That  good  Duke  Humphrey  traitorously  is  murder'd 
By  Suffolk  and  the  Cardinal  Beaufort's  means. 

75 


Act  III.  Sc  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

The  commons,  like  an  angry  hive  of  bees 
That  want  their  leader,  scatter  up  and  down, 
And  care  not  who  they  sting  in  his  revenge. 
Myself  have  calm'd  their  spleenful  mutiny, 
Until  they  hear  the  order  of  his  death. 

Kijig.  That  he  is  dead,  good  Warwick,  'tis  too  true  ;     130 
But  how  he  died  God  knows,  not  Henry : 
Enter  his  chamber,  view  his  breathless  corpse, 
And  comment  then  upon  his  sudden  death. 

JVar.  That  shall  I  do,  my  liege.     Stay,  Salisbury, 

With  the  rude  multitude  till  I  return.  [Exit. 

King.  O  Thou  that  judgest  all  things,  stay  my  thoughts. 
My  thoughts,  that  labour  to  persuade  my  soul 
Some  violent  hands  were  laid  on  Humphrey's  life ! 
If  my  suspect  be  false,  forgive  me,  God  ; 
For  judgement  only  doth  belong  to  Thee.  140 

Fain  would  I  go  to  chafe  his  paly  lips 
With  twenty  thousand  kisses,  and  to  drain 
Upon  his  face  an  ocean  of  salt  tears, 
To  tell  my  love  unto  his  dumb  deaf  trunk, 
And  with  my  fingers  feel  his  hand  unfeeling: 
But  all  in  vain  are  these  mean  obsequies  ; 
And  to  survey  his  dead  and  earthly  image. 
What  were  it  but  to  make  my  sorrow  greater  ? 

Re-enter  Warwick  and  others,  bearing 
Gloucester's  body  on  a  bed. 

War.  Come  hither,  gracious  sovereign,  view  this  body. 
King.  That  is  to  see  how  deep  my  grave  is  made  ;  150 

For  with  his  soul  fled  all  my  worldly  solace, 

For  seeing  him  I  see  my  life  in  death. 
War.  As  surely  as  my  soul  intends  to  live 

76 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

With  that  dread  King,  that  took  our  state  upon  him 
To  free  us  from  his  father's  wrathful  curse, 
I  do  beHeve  that  violent  hands  were  laid 
Upon  the  life  of  this  thrice-famed  duke. 

Suf.  A  dreadful  oath,  sworn  with  a  solemn  tongue ! 
What  instance  gives  Lord  Warwick  for  his  vow  ? 

Jl'ai\    See  how  the  blood  is  settled  in  his  face.  i6o 

Oft  have  I  seen  a  timely-parted  ghost. 
Of  ashy  semblance,  meagre,  pale  and  bloodless 
Being  all  descended  to  the  labouring  heart ; 
Who,  in  the  conflict  that  it  holds  with  death, 
Attracts  the  same  for  aidance  'gainst  the  enemy ; 
Which  with  the  heart  there  cools  and  ne'er  returneth 
To  blush  and  beautify  the  cheek  again. 
But  see,  his  face  is  black  and  full  of  blood, 
His  eye-balls  further  out  than  when  he  lived, 
Staring  full  ghastly  like  a  strangled  man  ;  170 

His   hair   uprear'd,    his   nostrils    stretch' d    with 

struggling ; 
His  hands  abroad  display'd,  as  one  that  grasp'd 
And  tugg'd  for  life  and  was  by  strength  subdued : 
Look,  on  the  sheets  his  hair,  you  see,  is  sticking  ; 
His  well-proportion'd  beard  made  rough  and  rugged, 
Like  to  the  summer's  corn  by  tempest  lodged. 
It  cannot  be  but  he  was  murder'd  here ; 
The  least  of  all  these  signs  were  probable. 

Suf.  Why,  Warwick,  who  should  do  the  duke  to  death  ? 
Myself  and  Beaufort  had  him  in  protection  ;  180 

And  we,  I  hope,  sir,  are  no  murderers. 

War.  But  both  of  you  were  vow'd  Duke  Humphrey's  foes, 
And  you,  forsooth,  had  the  good  duke  to  keep : 
'Tis  like  you  would  not  feast  him  like  a  friend; 
And  'tis  well  seen  he  found  an  enemy. 

77 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Queen.  Then  you,  belike,  suspect  these  noblemen 
As  guilty  of  Duke  Humphrey's  timeless  death. 

War.  Who  finds  the  heifer  dead  and  bleeding  fresh, 
And  sees  fast  by  a  butcher  with  an  axe, 
But  will  suspect  'twas  he  that  made  the  slaughter  ? 
Who  finds  the  partridge  in  the  puttock's  nest,         191 
But  may  imagine  how  the  bird  was  dead. 
Although  the  kite  soar  with  unbloodied  beak? 
Even  so  suspicious  is  this  tragedy. 

Queen.  Are  you  the  butcher,  Suffolk?    Where  's  your 
knife? 
Is  Beaufort  term'd  a  kite  ?    Where  are  his  talons  ? 

Suf.  I  wear  no  knife  to  slaughter  sleeping  men  ; 

But  here  's  a  vengeful  sword,  rusted  with  ease, 
That  shall  be  scoured  in  his  rancorous  heart 
That  slanders  me  with  murder's  crimson  badge.     200 
Say,  if  thou  darest,  proud  Lord  of  Warwickshire, 
That  I  am  faulty  in  Duke  Humphrey's  death, 

[Exeunt  Cardinal,  Somerset,  and  others. 

War.  What  dares  not  Warwick,  if  false  Suffolk  dare  him  ? 

Queen.  He  dares  not  calm  his  contumelious  spirit. 
Nor  cease  to  be  an  arrogant  controller. 
Though  Suffolk  dare  him  twenty  thousand  times. 

War.  Madam,  be  still ;  with  reverence  may  I  say ; 
For  every  word  you  speak  in  his  behalf 
Is  slander  to  your  royal  dignity. 

Suf.  Blunt-witted  lord,  ignoble  in  demeanour!  210 

If  ever  lady  wrong'd  her  lord  so  much. 
Thy  mother  took  into  her  blameful  bed 
Some  stern  untutor'd  churl,  and  noble  stock 
Was  graft  with  crab-tree  slip  ;  whose  fruit  thou  art 
And  never  of  the  Nevils'  noble  race. 

78 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

War.  But  that  the  guilt  of  murder  bucklers  thee, 
And  I  should  rob  the  deathsman  of  his  fee, 
Quitting  thee  thereby  of  ten  thousand  shames, 
And  that  my  sovereign's  presence  makes  me  mild, 
I  would,  false  murderous  coward,  on  thy  knee      220 
Make  thee  beg  pardon  for  thy  passed  speech. 
And  say  it  was  thy  mother  that  thou  meant' st, 
That  thou  thyself  wast  born  in  bastardy ; 
And  after  all  this  fearful  homage  done, 
Give  thee  thy  hire  and  send  thy  soul  to  hell. 
Pernicious  blood-sucker  of  sleeping  men  ! 

Siif.  Thou  shalt  be  waking  while  I  shed  thy  blood, 
If  from  this  presence  thou  darest  go  with  me. 

War.  Away  even  now,  or  I  will  drag  thee  hence : 

Unworthy  though  thou  art,  I  '11  cope  with  thee       230 
And  do  some  service  to  Duke  Humphrey's  ghost. 

[Exeunt  Suffolk  and  Warivick. 

King.  What  stronger  breastplate  than  a  heart  untainted ! 
Thrice  is  he  arm'd  that  hath  his  quarrel  just, 
And  he  but  naked,  though  lock'd  up  in  steel, 
Whose  conscience  with  injustice  is  corrupted. 

[A  noise'within. 

Queen.  What  noise  is  this? 

Re-enter  Suffolk  and  Warwick,  zvith  their 
zi'capons  drazvn. 

King.  Why,  how  now,  lords  !  your  wrathful  weapons 
drawn 

Here  in  our  presence !  dare  you  be  so  bold  ? 

Why,  what  tumultuous  clamour  have  we  here? 
Siif.  The  traitorous  Warwick  with  the  men  of  Bury     240 

Set  all  upon  me,  mighty  sovereign. 

79 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Sal.  [To  the  Commons,  entering]  Sirs,  stand  apart;   the 
king  shall  know  your  mind. 
Dread  lord,  the  commons  send  you  word  by  me, 
Unless  Lord  Suffolk  straight  be  done  to  death. 
Or  banished  fair  England's  territories, 
They  will  by  violence  tear  him  from  your  palace, 
And  torture  him  with  grievous  lingering  death. 
They  say,  by  him  the  good  Duke  Humphrey  died  ; 
They  say,  in  him  they  fear  your  highness'  death  ; 
And  mere  instinct  of  love  and  loyalty,  250 

Free  from  a  stubborn  opposite  intent, 
As  being  thought  to  contradict  your  liking, 
Makes  them  thus  forward  in  his  banishment. 
They  say,  in  care  of  your  most  royal  person, 
That  if  your  highness  should  intend  to  sleep, 
And  charge  that  no  man  should  disturb  your  rest 
In  pain  of  your  dislike  or  pain  of  death. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  such  a  strait  edict. 
Were  there  a  serpent  seen,  with  forked  tongue, 
That  slily  glided  towards  your  majesty,  260 

It  were  but  necessary  you  were  waked, 
Lest,  being  suffer'd  in  that  harmful  slumber, 
The  mortal  worm  might  make  the  sleep  eternal ; 
And  therefore  do  they  cry,  though  you  forbid. 
That  they  will  guard  you,  whether  you  will  or  no, 
From  such  fell  serpents  as  false  Suffolk  is, 
With  whose  envenomed  and  fatal  sting, 
Your  loving  uncle,  twenty  times  his  worth. 
They  say,  is  shamefully  bereft  of  life. 

Commons  [within].    An  answer  from  the  king,  my  Lord 
of  Salisbury !  270 

Suf.  'Tis  like  the  commons,  rude  unpolish'd  hinds, 

80 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Could  send  such  message  to  their  sovereign  : 
But  you,  my  lord,  were  glad  to  be  employ'd, 
To  show  how  quaint  an  orator  you  are : 
But  all  the  honour  Salisbury  hath  won 
Is,  that  he  Vv^as  the  lord  ambassador 
Sent  from  a  sort  of  tinkers  to  the  king. 

Cormmns   [zi'ithin].  An  answer  from  the  king,  or  we  will 
all  break  in ! 

King.  Go,  Salisbury,  and  tell  them  all  from  me, 

I  thank  them  for  their  tender  loving  care ;  280 

And  had  I  not  been  cited  so  by  them, 

Yet  did  I  purpose  as  they  do  entreat ; 

For,  sure,  my  thoughts  do  hourly  prophesy 

Mischance  unto  my  state  by  Suffolk's  means  : 

And  therefore,  by  His  majesty  I  swear, 

Whose  far  unworthy  deputy  I  am, 

He  shall  not  breathe  infection  in  this  air 

But  three  days  longer,  on  the  pain  of  death. 

[Exit  Salisbury. 

Queen.  O  Henry,  let  me  plead  for  gentle  Suffolk ! 

King.  Ungentle  queen,  to  call  him  gentle  Suffolk !        290 
No  more,  I  say  :  if  thou  dost  plead  for  him. 
Thou  wilt  but  add  increase  unto  my  wrath. 
Had  I  but  said,  I  would  have  kept  my  word, 
But  when  I  swear,  it  is  irrevocable. 
If,  after  three  days'  space,  thou  here  be'st  found 
On  any  ground  that  I  am  ruler  of. 
The  world  shall  not  be  ransom  for  thy  life. 
Come,  Warwick,  come,  good  Warwick,  go  with  me  ; 
I  have  great  matters  to  impart  to  thee. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Queen  and  Suffolk. 

Queen.  Mischance  and  sorrow  go  along  with  you !         300 

81 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Heart's  discontent  and  sour  affliction 
Be  playfellows  to  keep  you  company  ! 
There  's  two  of  you  ;   the  devil  make  a  third ! 
And  threefold  vengeance  tend  upon  your  steps ! 

Siif.  Cease,  gentle  queen,  these  execrations, 
And  let  thy  Suffolk  take  his  heavy  leave. 

Queen.  Fie,  coward  woman  and  soft-hearted  w^retch ! 
Hast  thou  not  spirit  to  curse  thine  enemy  ? 

Suf.  A  plague  upon  them  !  wherefore  should  I  curse  them  ?• 
Would  curses  kill,  as  doth  the  mandrake's  groan,  310 
I  would  invent  as  bitter-searching  terms, 
As  curst,  as  harsh  and  horrible  to  hear, 
Deliver'd  strongly  through  my  fixed  teeth, 
With  full  as  many  signs  of  deadly  hate, 
As  lean-faced  Envy  in  her  loathsome  cave : 
My  tongue  should  stumble  in  mine  earnest  words  ; 
Mine  eyes  should  sparkle  like  the  beaten  flint ; 
Mine  hair  be  fix'd  on  end,  as  one  distract ; 
Ay,  every  joint  should  seem  to  curse  and  ban  : 
And  even  now  my  burthen'd  heart  would  break,     320 
Should  I  not  curse  them.    Poison  be  their  drink ! 
Gall,  worse  than  gall,  the  daintiest  that  they  taste ! 
Their  sweetest  shade  a  grove  of  cypress  trees ! 
Their  chiefest  prospect  murdering  basilisks  ! 
Their  softest  touch  as  smart  as  lizards'  stings ! 
Their  music  frightful  as  the  serpent's  hiss, 
And  boding  screech-owls  make  the  concert  full ! 
All  the  foul  terrors  in  dark-seated  hell — 

Queen.  Enough,  sweet  Suffolk;   thou  torment'st  thyself; 
And  these  dread  curses,  like  the  sun  'gainst  glass. 
Or  like  an  overcharged  gun,  recoil,  331 

And  turn  the  force  of  them  upon  thyself. 
82 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Suf.  You  bade  me  ban,  and  will  you  bid  me  leave  ? 
Now,  by  the  ground  that  I  am  banish'd  from. 
Well  could  I  curse  away  a  winter's  night, 
Though  standing  naked  on  a  mountain  top, 
Where  biting  cold  would  never  let  grass  grow, 
And  think  it  but  a  minute  spent  in  sport. 

Queen.  O,  let  me  entreat  thee  cease.    Give  me  thy  hand. 
That  I  may  dew  it  with  my  mournful  tears  ;  340 

Nor  let  the  rain  of  heaven  wet  this  place, 
To  wash  away  my  woful  monuments. 
O,  could  this  kiss  be  printed  in  thy  hand, 
That  thou  mightst  think  upon  these  by  the  seal. 
Through  w^hom  a  thousand  sighs  are  breathed  for 

thee! 
So,  get  thee  gone,  that  I  may  know  my  grief ; 
'Tis  but  surmised  whiles  thou  art  standing  by, 
As  one  that  surfeits  thinking  on  a  want. 
I  will  repeal  thee,  or,  be  well  assured, 
Adventure  to  be  banished  myself  :  350 

And  banished  I  am,  if  but  from  thee. 
Go ;  speak  not  to  me  ;  even  now  be  gone. 
O,  go  not  yet !     Even  thus  two  friends  condemn'd 
Embrace  and  kiss  and  take  ten  thousand  leaves, 
Loather  a  hundred  times  to  part  than  die. 
Yet  now  farewell ;  and  farewell  life  with  thee ! 

Suf.  Thus  is  poor  Suffolk  ten  times  banished  ; 

Once  by  the  king,  and  three  times  thrice  by  thee. 
'     'Tis  not  the  land  I  care  for,  wert  thou  thence  ; 

A  wilderness  is  populous  enough,  360 

So  Suffolk  had  thy  heavenly  company  : 
For  where  thou  art,  there  is  the  world  itself, 
With  every  several  pleasure  in  the  world, 

83 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

And  where  thou  art  not,  desolation. 

I  can  no  more  :  Hve  thou  to  joy  thy  Hfe  ; 

Myself  no  joy  in  nought  but  that  thou  livest. 

E)itcr  Vaiix. 

Queen.  Whither  goes  Vaux  so  fast  ?  what  news,  I  prithee  ? 

/  \iii.v.  To  signify  unto  his  majesty 

That  Cardinal  Beaufort  is  at  point  of  death  ; 

For  suddenly  a  grievous  sickness  took  him,  370 

That  makes  him  gasp  and  stare  and  catch  the  air, 

Pjlaspheming  God  and  cursing  men  on  earth. 

Sometime  he  talks  as  if  Duke  Humphrey's  ghost 

W^ere  by  his  side  ;  sometime  he  c^lls  the  king, 

And  whispers  to  his  pillow  as  to  him 

The  secrets  of  his  overcharged  soul : 

And  I  am  sent  to  tell  his  majesty, 

That  even  now  he  cries  aloud  for  him. 

Queen.  Go  tell  this  heavy  message  to  the  king. 

\E.vif  J^au.v. 
Ay  me  !  what  is  this  world  !   what  news- are  these  ! 
But  wherefore  grieve  I  at  an  hour's  poor  loss,      381 
Omitting  Suffolk's  exile,  my  soul's  treasure  ? 
Why  only,  Suffolk,  mourn  I  not  for  thee, 
And  with  the  southern  clouds  contend  in  tears, 
Theirs  for  the  earth's  increase,  mine  for  my  sorrows  ? 
Xow   get   thee   hence :    the   king,   thou   know'st,    is 

coming ; 
If  thou  be  found  by  me,  thou  art  but  dead. 

Suf.  If  I  depart  from  thee,  I  cannot  live; 

And  in  thy  sight  to  die,  what  were  it  else 

But  like  a  pleasant  slumber  in  thy  lap  ?  390 

Here  could  I  breathe  my  soul  into  the  air, 

84 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  III.  Sc.  iii. 

As  mild  and  gentle  as  the  cradle-babe, 
Dying  with  mother's  dug  between  its  lips : 
Where,  from  thy  sight,  I  should  be  raging  mad. 
And  cry  out  for  thee  to  close  up  mine  eyes, 
To  have  thee  with  thy  lips  to  stop  my  mouth ; 
So  shouldst  thou  either  turn  my  flying  soul, 
Or  I  should  breathe  it  so  into  thy  body. 
And  then  it  lived  in  sweet  Elysium. 
To  die  by  thee  were  but  to  die  in  jest ;  400 

*  From  thee  to  die  were  torture  more  than  death  : 
O,  let  me  stay,  befall  what  may  befall ! 

Queen.  Away!  though  parting  be  a  fretful  corrosive, 
It  is  applied  to  a  deathful  wound. 
To  France,  sweet  Suffolk  :  let  me  hear  from  thee  ; 
For  wheresoe'er  thou  art  in  this  world's  globe, 
I  '11  have  an  Iris  that  shall  find  thee  out. 

Suf.  I  go. 

Queen.  And  take  my  heart  with  thee. 

Suf.  A  jewel,  lock'd  into  the  wofull'st  cask 

That  ever  did  contain  a  thing  of  worth.  410 

Even  as  a  splitted  bark,  so  sunder  we : 
This  way  fall  I  to  death. 

Queen.  This  way  for  me. 

[Exeunt  severally. 

Scene  III. 

A  bedchamber. 

Enter  the  King,  Salisbury,  Warzvick,  to  the 
Cardinal  in  bed. 

King.  How  fares  my  lord  ?  speak,  Beaufort,  to  thy  sovereign. 
Car.  If  thou  be'st  death,  I  '11  give  thee  England's  treasure 
Enough  to  purchase  such  another  island, 

85 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

So  thou  wilt  let  me  live,  and  feel  no  pain. 

King.  Ah,  what  a  sign  it  is  of  evil  life, 

Where  death's  approach  is  seen  so  terrible. 

War.  Beaufort,  it  is  thy  sovereign  speaks  to  thee. 

Car.  Bring  me  unto  my  trial  when  you  will. 

Died  he  not  in  his  bed  ?  wdiere  should  he  die  ? 

Can  I  make  men  live,  whether  they  will  or  no  ?  lo 

O,  torture  me  no  more!   I  will  confess. 

Alive  again  ?  then  show  me  where  he  is  : 

I  '11  give  a  thousand  pound  to  look  upon  him. 

He  hath  no  eyes,  the  dust  hath  blinded  them. 

Comb  down  his  hair  ;  look,  look  !  it  stands  upright. 

Like  lime-twigs  set  to  catch  my  winged  soul. 

Give  me  some  drink  ;  and  bid  the  apothecary 

Bring  the  strong  poison  that  I  bought  of  him. 

King.  O  thou  eternal  mover  of  the  heavens, 

Look  with  a  gentle  eye  upon  this  wretch !  20 

O,  beat  away  the  busy  meddling  fiend 

That  lays  strong  siege  unto  this  wretch's  soul, 

And  from  his  bosom  purge  this  black  despair ! 

JVar.   See,  how  the  pangs  of  death  do  make  him  grin  ! 

Sal.  Disturb  him  not ;   let  him  pass  peaceably. 

King.  Peace  to  his  soul,  if  God's  good  pleasure  be ! 
Lord  cardinal,  if  thou  think'st  on  heaven's  bliss, 
Hold  up  thy  hand,  make  signal  of  thy  hope. 
He  dies,  and  makes  no  sign.     O  God,  forgive  him ! 

JVar.  So  bad  a  death  argues  a  monstrous  life.  30 

King.  Forbear  to  judge,  for  \\q  are  sinners  all. 
Close  up  his  eyes  and  draw  the  curtain  close ; 
And  let  us  all  to  meditation.  [Exeunt. 


m 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

ACT  FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

The  coast  of  Kent. 

Alarum.  Fight  at  sea.  Ordnance  goes  off.  Enter  a  Cap- 
fain,  a  Master,  a  Masters-Mate,  Walter  Whitmore, 
and  others;  with  them  Suffolk,  and  others,  prisoners. 

Cap.  The  gaudy,  blabbing  and  remorseful  day 
Is  crept  into  the  bosom  of  the  sea ; 
And  now  loud-howling  wolves  arouse  the  jades 
That  drag  the  tragic  melancholy  night ; 
Who,  with  their  drowsy,  slow  and  flagging  wings. 
Clip  dead  men's  graves,  and  from  their  misty  jaws 
Breathe  foul  contagious  darkness  in  the  air. 
Therefore  bring  forth  the  soldiers  of  our  prize ; 
For,  whilst  our  pinnace  anchors  in  the  Downs, 
Here  shall  they  make  their  ransom  on  the  sand,        lo 
Or  with  their  blood  stain  this  discoloured  shore. 
Master,  this  prisoner  freely  give  I  thee  ; 
And  thou  that  art  his  mate,  make  boot  of  this  ; 
The  other,  Walter  Whitmore,  is  thy  share. 

First  Gent.  What  is  my  ransom,  master?  let  me  know. 

Mast.  A  thousand  crowns,  or  else  lay  down  your  head. 

Mate.  And  so  much  shall  you  give,  or  off  goes  yours. 

Cap.  What,  think  you  much  to  pay  two  thousand  crowns. 
And  bear  the  name  and  port  of  gentlemen  ? 
Cut  both  the  villains'  throats  ;   for  die  you  shall :      20 
The  lives  of  those  which  we  have  lost  in  fight 
Be  counterpoised  with  such  a  petty  sum ! 

First  Gent.  I  '11  give  it,  sir ;   and  therefore  spare  my  life. 

Sec.  Gent.   And  so  will  I,  and  write  home  for  it  straight. 

87 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

IVhit.  I  lost  mine  eye  in  laying  the  prize  aboard, 
And  therefore  to  revenge  it,  shalt  thou  die ; 

[ToSiif. 
And  so  should  these,  if  I  might  have  my  will. 

Cap.  Be  not  so  rash  ;  take  ransom,  let  him  live. 

Suf.  Look  on  my  George  ;   I  am  a  gentleman  : 

Rate  me  at  what  thou  wilt,  thou  shalt  be  paid.  30 

IV hit.  And  so  am  I ;  my  name  is  Walter  Whitmore. 

How   now !    why   start'st   thou  ?    what,    doth   death 
affright  ? 

Suf.  Thy  name  affrights  me,  in  whose  sound  is  death 
A  cunning  man  did  calculate  my  birth. 
And  told  me  that  by  water  I  should  die : 
Yet  let  not  this  make  thee  be  bloody-minded ; 
Thy  name  is  Gualtier,  being  rightly  sounded. 

JVhit.  Gualtier  or  Walter,  which  it  is,  I  care  not : 
Never  yet  did  base  dishonour  blur  our  name. 
But  with  our  sword  we  wiped  away  the  blot ;  40 

Therefore,  when  merchant-like  I  sell  revenge, 
Broke  be  my  sword,  my  arms  torn  and  defaced. 
And  I  proclaim'd  a  coward  through  the  world ! 

Suf.  Stay,  Whitmore  ;   for  thv  prisoner  is  a  prince, 
The  Duke  of  Suffolk,  W^illiam  de  la  Pole. 

Jlliit.  The  Duke  of  Suffolk,  muffled  up  in  rags! 

Suf.  Ay,  but  these  rags  are  no  part  of  the  duke  : 
Jove  sometime  went  disguised,  and  why  not  I  ? 

Cap.  But  Jove  was  never  slain,  as  thou  shalt  be. 

Suf.  Obscure  and  lowly  swain.  King  Henry's  blood,       50 
The  honourable  blood  of  Lancaster, 
Must  not  be  shed  by  such  a  jaded  groom. 
Hast  thou  not  kiss'd  thy  hand  and  held  my  stirrup  ? 
Bare-headed  plodded  by  my  foot-cloth  mule, 

88 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

And  thought  thee  happy  when  I  shook  my  head? 

How  often  hast  thou  waited  at  my  cup. 

Fed  from  my  trencher,  kneel'd  down  at  the  board, 

When  I  have  feasted  with  Queen  Margaret? 

Remember  it  and  let  it  make  thee  crest-fall'n, 

Ay,  and  allay  this  thy  abortive  pride ;  60 

How  in  our  voiding  lobby  hast  thou  stood 

And  duly  waited  for  my  coming  forth? 

This  hand  of  mine  hath  writ  in  thy  behalf. 

.And  therefore  shall  it  charm  thy  riotous  tongue. 

JVIiit.   Speak,  captain,  shall  I  stab  the  forlorn  swain  ? 

Cap.  First  let  my  words  stab  him,  as  he  hath  me. 

Snf.   Base  slave,  thy  words  are  blunt,  and  so  art  thou. 

Cap.  Convey  him  hence  and  on  our  long-boat's  side 
Strike  off  his  head. 

Sitf.  Thou  darest  not,  for  thy  own. 

Cap.  Yes,  Pole. 

Suf.  Pole! 

Cap.  Pool!   Sir  Pool!  lord!  70 

Ay,  kennel,  puddle,  sink;    whose  filth  nnd  dirt 
Troubles  the  silver  spring  where  Fngland  drinks. 
Now  will  I  dam  up  this  thy  yawning  mouth. 
For  swallowing  the  treasure  of  the  realm: 
Thy  lips  that  kiss'd  the  queen  shall  sweep  the  ground  ; 
And  thou  that  smiledst  at  good  Duke  Humphrey's 

death 
Against  the  senseless  winds  shalt  grin  in  vain. 
Who  in  contempt  shall  hiss  at  thee  again: 
And  wedded  be  thou  to  the  hags  of  hell. 
For  daring  to  affy  a  mighty  lord  80 

Unto  the  daughter  of  a  worthless  king. 
Having  neither  subject,  wealth,  nor  diadem. 

89 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

By  devilish  policy  art  thou  grown  great, 
And,  like  ambitious  Sylla,  overgorged 
With  gobbets  of  thy  mother's  bleeding  heart. 
By  thee  Anjou  and  Maine  were  sold  to  France, 
The  false  revolting  Normans  thorough  thee 
Disdain  to  call  us  lord,  and  Picardy 
Hath  slain  their  governors,  surprised  our  forts, 
And  sent  the  ragged  soldiers  wounded  home.         90 
The  princely  Warwick,  and  the  Nevils  all, 
Whose  dreadful  swords  w^ere  never  drawn  in  vain, 
As  hating  thee,  are  rising  up  in  arms : 
And  now  the  house  of  York,  thrust  from  the  crown 
By  shameful  murder  of  a  guiltless  king, 
And  lofty  proud  encroaching  tyranny, 
Burns  with  revenging  fire;    whose  hopeful  colours 
Advance  our  half-faced  sun,  striving  to  shine, 
Under  the  which  is  writ  '  Invitis  nubibus.' 
The  commons  here  in  Kent  are  up  in  arms:  100 

And,  to  conclude,  reproach  and  beggary 
Is  crept  into  the  palace  of  our  king. 
And  all  by  thee.     Away !   convey  him  hence. 
Siif.  O  that  I  were  a  god,  to  shoot  forth  thunder 
Upon  these  paltry,  servile,  abject  drudges! 
Small  things  make  base  men  proud  :  this  villain  here, 
Being  captain  of  a  pinnace,  threatens  more 
Than  Bargulus  the  strong  Illyrian  pirate. 
Drones  suck  not  eagles'  blood  but  rob  bee-hives : 
It  is  impossible  that  I  should  die  no 

By  such  a  lowly  vassal  as  thyself. 
Thy  words  move  rage  and  not  remorse  in  me: 
I  go  of  message  from  the  queen  to  France; 
I  charge  thee  waft  me  safely  cross  the  Channel. 
90 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Cap.  Walter,— 

Whit.  Come,  Suffolk,  I  must  waft  thee  to  thy  death. 

Suf.  Gelidus  timor  occupat  artus  :  it  is  thee  I  fear. 

Whit.  Thou  shalt  have  cause  to  fear  before  I  leave  thee. 
What,  are  ye  daunted  now  ?  now  will  ye  stoop  ? 

First  Gent.   '\\\  gracious  lord,  entreat  him,  speak  him  fair. 

Suf.   Suffolk's  imperial  tongue  is  stern  and  rough,         121 
Used  to  command,  untaught  to  plead  for  favour. 
Far  be  it  we  should  honour  such  as  these 
With  humble  suit :  no,  rather  let  my  head 
Stoop  to  the  block  than  these  knees  bow  to  any 
Save  to  the  God  of  heaven  and  to  my  king ; 
And  sooner  dance  upon  a  bloody  pole 
Than  stand  uncover'd  to  the  vulgar  groom. 
True  nobility  is  exempt  from  fear  : 
]\Iore  can  I  bear  than  you  dare  execute.  130 

Cap.  Hale  him  away,  and  let  him  talk  no  more. 

Suf.  Come,  soldiers,  show  what  cruelty  ye  can, 
That  this  my  death  may  never  be  forgot ! 
Great  men  oft  die  by  vile  bezonians : 
A  Roman  sworder  and  banditto  slave 
Murder'd  sweet  Tully ;   Brutus'  bastard  hand 
Stabb'd  Julius  Caesar  ;  savage  islanders 
Pompey  the  Great ;  and  Suffolk  dies  by  pirates. 

[Exeunt  Whitniore  and  others  with  Suffolk. 

Cap.  And  as  for  these  whose  ransom  we  have  set. 

It  is  our  pleasure  one  of  them  depart :  140 

Therefore  come  you  with  us  and  let  him  go. 

[Exeunt  all  but  the  First  Gentleman. 

Re-enter  Whitmore  zcith  Suffolk's  body. 

Whit.  There  let  his  head  and  lifeless  body  lie, 

91 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Until  the  queen  his  mistress  bury  it.  [Exit. 

First  Gent.  O  barbarous  and  bloody  spectacle ! 
His  body  will  I  bear  unto  the  king : 
If  he  revenge  it  not,  yet  will  his  friends ; 
So  will  the  queen,  that  living  held  him  dear. 

[Exit  zvitli  the  body. 

Scene  II. 

Blackheath. 
Enter  George  Bez'is  and  John  Holland. 

Bez'is.  Come,  and  get  thee  a  sword,  though  made 
of  a  lath :  they  have  been  up  these  two 
days. 

Holl.  They  have  the  more  need  to  sleep  now,  then. 

Bezis.  I  tell  thee.  Jack  Cade  the  clothier  means  to 
dress  the  commonwealth,  and  turn  it,  and  set  a 
new  nap  upon  it. 

Holl.  So  he  had  need,  for  "tis  threadbare.  Well,  I 
say  it  was  never  merry  world  in  England  since 
gentlemen  came  up.  lo 

Bcz'is.  O  miserable  age !  virtue  is  not  regarded  in 
handicrafts-men. 

Holl.  The  nobility  think  scorn  to  go  in  leather  aprons. 

Bevis.  Nay,  more,  the  king's  council  are  no  good 
workmen. 

Holl.  True  ;  and  yet  it  is  said,  labour  in  thy  voca- 
tion :  which  is  as  much  to  say  as,  let  the 
magistrates  be  labouring  men ;  and  therefore 
should  we  be  magistrates. 

Bevis.  Thou  hast  hit  it ;   for  there  's  no  better  sign  of     20 
a  brave  mind  than  a  hard  hand. 

92 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

II oil.  I  see  them !    1  see  them !     There  's  Best's  son, 

the  tanner  of  Wingham, — 
Bevis.  He  shall  have  the  skins  of  our  enemies,  to  make 

dog's-leather  of. 
Holl.  And  Dick  the  butcher, — 
Bevis.  Then  is  sin  struck  down  like  anox,an(liniquity's 

throat  cut  like  a  calf. 
Holl.  And  Smith  the  Weaver, — 

Bevis.  Argo,  their  thread  of  life  is  spun.  30 

Holl.  Come,  come,  let  's  fall  in  with  them. 

Drimi.     Enter  Cade,  Dick  Butcher,  Smith  the  JVeaver, 
and  a  Sawyer,  with  infinite  numbers. 

Cade.  We  John   Cade,   so  termed  of  our  supposed 

father, — 
Dick.  [Aside]  Or  rather, of  stealingacadeof  herrings. 
Cade.  For  our  enemies  shall  fall  before  us,  inspired 

with    the    s])irit    of    putting    down    kings    and 

princes, — Command  silence. 
Dick.  Silence! 

Cade.  My  father  w^as  a  Mortimer, — 
Dick.    [Aside]   He  was  an  honest  man,  and  a  good     40 

bricklayer. 
Cade.   My  mother  a  Plantagenet, — 
Dick.   [Aside]   I  knew  her  well ;  she  w^as  a  midwife. 
Cade.  My  wife  descended  of  the  Lacies, — 
Dick.    [Aside]    She  w^as,  indeed,  a  pedler's  daughter, 

and  sold  many  laces. 
Smith.  [Aside]  But  now  of  late, not  able  to  travel  with 

her  furred  pack,  she  washes  bucks  here  at  home. 
Cade.  Therefore  am  I  of  an  honourable  house. 
Dick.    [Aside]   Ay,  by  my  faith,  the  field  is  honour-     Jo 

93 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

able ;  and  there  was  he  born,  under  a  hedge,  for 
his  father  had  never  a  house  but  the  cage. 

Cade.  Valiant  I  am. 

Smith.  [Aside]  A'  must  needs  ;  for  beggary  is  valiant- 
Cat/^.  I  am  able  to  endure  much. 

Dick.  [Aside]  Noquestionof  that ;  for  I  have  seen  him 
whipped  three  market-days  together. 

Cade.  I  fear  neither  sword  nor  fire. 

Smith.    [Aside]    He  need  not  fear  the  sword  ;   for  his 

coat  is  of  proof.  60 

Dick.  [Aside]  But  methinks  he  should  stand  in  fear  of 
fire  ;  being  burnt  i'  the  hand  for  stealing  of  sheep. 

Cade.  Be  brave,  then ;  for  your  captain  is  brave,  and 
vows  reformation.  There  shall  be  in  England 
seven  halfpenny  loaves  sold  for  a  penny :  the 
three-hooped  pot  shall  have  ten  hoops ;  and  I 
will  make  it  felony  to  drink  small  beer:  all  the 
realm  shall  be  in  common  ;  and  in  Cheapside 
shall  my  palf  ry  go  to  grass :  and  when  I  am 
king,  as  king  I  will  be, —  70 

All.  God  save  your  majesty! 

Cade.  I  thank  you,  good  people :  there  shall  be  no 
money;  all' shall  eat  and  drink  on  my  score; 
and  I  will  apparel  them  all  in  one  livery,  that 
they  may  agree  like  brothers,  and  worship  me 
their  lord. 

Dick.  The    first    thing    we    do,    let  's    kill    all    the 

lawyers. 
Cade.  Nay,  that  I  mean  to  do.     Is  not  this  a  lament- 
able thing,  that  of  the  skin  of  an  innocent  lamb     80 
should   be   made   parchment  ?    that   parchment, 
beingf  scribbled  o'er,  should  undo  a  man  ?    Some 

94 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

say  the  bee  stino-s :  but  T  say,  'tis  the  bee's  wax ; 
for  I  did  but  seal  once  to  a  thing,  and  I  was  never 
mine  own  man  since.     How  now  !   who  's  there  ? 

Enter  some,  bringing  forward  the  Clerk  of  Cliaf/iani. 

Smith.  The  clerk  of  Chatham  :  he  can  write  and  read 

and  cast  accompt. 
Cade,  O  monstrous ! 

SmitJi.  We  took  him  setting  of  boys'  copies. 
Cade.   Here  's  a  villain  !  90 

Smith.  Has  a  book  in  his  pocket  with  red  letters  in  't. 
Cade.   Xay,  then,  he  is  a  conjurer. 
Dick.  Xay,  he  can  make  obligations,  and  write  courthand. 
Cade.  I  am  sorry  for  't :  the  man  is  a  proper  man,  of 

mine  honour ;   unless  I  find  him  guilty,  he  shall 

not  die.     Come  hither,  sirrali,  I  must  examine 

thee  :  what  is  thy  name  ? 
Clerk.  Emmanuel. 
Dick.  They  use   to   write   it   on   the  top   of  letters: 

'twill  go  hard  with  you.  100 

Cade.  Let  me  alone.     Dost   thou   use  to   write  thv 

name?    or  hast  thou  a  mark  to  thyself,  like  an 

honest  plain-dealing  man  ? 
Clerk.  Sir,  I  thank  God,  I  have  been  so  well  brought 

up  that  I  can  write  my  name. 
.  ///.  He  hath  confessed  :  away  with  him  !  he  's  a  villain 

and  a  traitor. 
Cade.  Away  with  him,  T  say !  hang  him  with  his  pen 

and  ink-horn  about  his  neck. 

[E.rit  one  with  the  Clerk. 

Enter  Michael. 
Mich.  Where 's  our  general  ?  IIO 

95 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii..  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Cade.  Here  I  am,  thou  particular  fellow. 

Mich.  Fly,  fly,  fly !  Sir  Humphrey  Stafford  and  his 
brother  are  hard  by,  with  the  king's  forces. 

Cade,  Stand,  villain,  stand,  or  I  '11  fell  thee  down. 
He  shall  be  encountered  with  a  man  as  good  as 
himself :   he  is  but  a  knight,  is  a'  ? 

Mich.  No. 

Cade.  To  equal  him,  I  will  make  myself  a  knight  pre- 
sently. [Kneels]  Rise  up.  Sir  John  Mortimer. 
[Rises]  Now  have  at  him!  120 

Enter  Sir  Humphrey  Stafford  and  his  Brother,  zi'ith 
drum  and  soldiers. 

Staf.  Rebellious  hinds,  the  filth  and  scum  of  Kent, 

Mark'd  for  the  gallows,  lay  your  weapons  down  ; 

Home  to  your  cottages,  forsake  this  groom  : 

The  king  is  merciful,  if  you  revolt. 
Bro.  But  angry,  wrathful,  and  inclined  to  blood, 

If  you  go  forward ;  therefore  yield,  or  die. 
Cade.  As  for  these  silken-coated  slaves,  I  pass  not : 

It  is  to  you,  good  people,  that  I  speak, 

Over  whom,  in  time  to  come,  I  hope  to  reign ; 

For  I  am  rightful  heir  unto  the  crown.  130 

Staf.  Villain,  thy  father  was  a  plasterer ; 

And  thou  thyself  a  shearman,  art  thou  not  ? 
Cade.  And  Adam  was  a  gardener. 
Bro.  And  what  of  that  ? 
Cade.  Marry,  this :  Edmund  Mortimer,  Earl  of  March, 

Married  the  Duke  of  Clarence'  daughter,  did  he  not  ? 
Staf.  Ay,  sir. 

Cade.  By  her  he  had  two  children  at  one  birth. 
Bro.  That 's  false. 

96 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

Cade.  Ay,  there  's  the  question  ;  but  I  say,  "tis  true :      T40 
The  elder  of  them,  being  put  to  nurse, 
Was  by  a  beggar-woman  stolen  away ;    • 
And,  ignorant  of  his  birth  and  parentage, 
Became  a  bricklayer  when  he  came  to  age : 
His  son  am  I ;  deny  it,  if  you  can. 

Dick.  Nay,  'tis  too  true;  therefore  he  shall  l^e  king. 

Smith.  Sir,  he  made  a  chimney  in  my  father's  house, 
and  the  bricks  are  alive  at  this  day  to  testify  it ; 
therefore  deny  it  not. 

Staf.  And  will  you  credit  this  base  drudge's  words,      150 
That  speaks  he  knows  not  what? 

All.  Ay,  marry,  will  we ;  therefore  get  ye  gone. 

Bro.  Jack  Cade,  the  Duke  of  York  hath  taught  you  this. 

Cade.    [Aside]  He  lies,  for  I  invented  it  myself. 

Go  to,  sirrah,  tell  the  king  from  me,  that,  for 
his  father's  sake,  Henry  the  Fifth,  in  whose  time 
boys  went  to  span-counter  for  French  crowns, 
I  am  content  he  shall  reign ;  but  I  '11  be  pro- 
tector over  him. 

Dick.  And  furthermore,  we  '11  have  the  Lord  Say's  160 
head  for  selling  the  dukedom  of  Maine. 

Cade.  And  good  reason :  for  tliereby  is  England 
mained,  and  fain  to  go  with  a  stafif,  but  that  my 
puissance  holds  it  up.  Fellow  kings,  I  tell  you 
that  that  Lord  Say  hath  gelded  the  common- 
wealth, and  made  it  an  eunuch  :  and  more  than 
that,  he  can  speak  French  ;  and  therefore  he  is 
a  traitor. 

Staf.  O,  gross  and  miserable  ignorance ! 

Cade.  Nay,  answer,  if  you  can:    the  Frenchmen  are   170 
our  enemies ;    go  to,  then,  I  ask  but  this  :    can 

97 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

he  that  speaks  with  the  tongue  of  an  enemy  be 
a  good  counsellor,  or  no  ? 

All.   Xo,  no  :  and  therefore  we  '11  have  his  head. 

Bro.  W'ell,  seeing  gentle  words  will  not  prevail, 
Assail  them  with  the  army  of  the  king. 

Staf.  Herald,  away  ;  and  throughout  every  town 
Proclaim  them  traitors  that  are  up  with  Cade ; 
That  those  which  fly  before  the  battle  ends 
May,  even  in  their  wives'  and  children's  sight,        i8o 
Be  hang'd  up  for  example  at  their  doors : 
And  you  that  be  the  king's  friends,  follow  me. 

[Exeunt  the  two  Staff ords,  and  soldiers. 

Cade.  And  you  that  love  the  commons,  follow  me. 
Now  show  yourselves  men  ;  'tis  for  liberty. 
We  will  not  leave  one  lord,  one  gentleman : 
Spare  none  but  such  as  go  in  clouted  shoon ; 
For  they  are  thrifty  honest  men,  and  such 
As  wDuld,  but  that  they  dare  not,  take  our  parts. 

Dick.  They  are  all  in  order  and  march  toward  us. 

Cade.  But  then  are  we  in  order  when  we  are  most  out     190 
of  order.     Come,  march  forward.  [Exeunt 

Scene  III. 

Another  part  of  Blackhcath. 

Alarums  to  the  -fight,  zvherein  both  the  Staff ords  ar^  sfaif 
Enter  Cade  and  the  rest. 

Cade.  Where  's  Dick,  the  butcher  of  Ashf ord  ? 

DicI?.  Here,  sir. 

Cade.  They  fell  before  thee  like  sheep  and  oxen,  and 
thou  behavedst  thyself  as  if  thou  hadst  been  in 
thine  own  slaughter-house :    therefore  thus  will 

98 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

1  reward  thee,  the  Lent  shall  be  as  long  again  as 
it  is ;  and  thou  shalt  have  a  licence  to  kill  for  a 
hundred  lacking  one. 

Dick.  I  desire  no  more. 

Cade.  And,  to  speak  truth,  thou  deservest  no  less.  lo 
This  monument  of  the  victory  will  I  bear  [put- 
ting on  Sir  Humphrey's  brigandinc]  ;  and  the 
bodies  shall  be  dragged  at  my  horse  heels  till 
I  do  come  to  London,  where  we  will  have  the 
mayor's  sword  borne  before  us. 

Dick.  If  we  mean  to  thrive  and  do  good,  break'  open 
the  gaols  and  let  out  the  prisoners. 

Cade.  Fear  not  that,   I  warrant  thee.     Come,  let 's 

march  towards  London.  [E.veunt. 

Scene  IV. 

London.     The  palace. 

Enter  the  King  7^'ifJi  a  supplication,  and  the  Queen  with 
Suffolk's  head,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  and  the 
Lord  Say. 

Queen.  Oft  have  I  heard  that  grief  softens  the  mind. 
And  makes  it  fearful  and  degenerate ; 
Think  therefore  on  revenge  and  cease  to  weep. 
But  who  can  cease  to  weep  and  look  on  this  ? 
Here  may  his  head  lie  on  my  throbbing  breast : 
But  where  's  the  body  that  I  should  embrace  ? 

Buck.  \Miat  answer  makes  your  grace  to  the  rebels' 
supplication  ? 

King.  I'll  send  some  holy  bishop  to  entreat ; 

For  God  forbid  so  many  simple  souls  lo 

Should  perish  by  the  sword !    And  I  myself. 
Rather  than  bloody  war  shall  cut  them  short, 

99 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Will  parley  with  Jack  Cade  their  general  : 
But  stay,  I  '11  read  it  over  once  again. 

Queen.  Ah,  barbarous  villains !   hath  this  lovely  face 
Ruled,  like  a  wandering  planet,  over  me. 
And  could  it  not  enforce  them  to  relent, 
That  were  unworthy  to  behold  the  same  ? 

King.  Lord    Say,   Jack   Cade   hath    sworn   to   have   thy 
head. 

Say.  Ay,  but  I  hope  your  highness  shall  have  his.  20 

King.  How  now,  madam  ! 

Still  lamenting  and  mourning  for  Suffolk's  death  ? 

I  fear  me,  love,  if  that  I  had  been  dead. 

Thou  wouldest  not  have  mourn 'd  so  much  for  me. 

Queen.  No,  my  love,   I  should  not  mourn,  but  die  for 
thee. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

King.  How  now !   what  news  ?   why  comest  thou  in  such 
haste  ? 

Mess.  The  rebels  are  in  Southwark :  fly,  my  lord  ! 
Jack  Cade  proclaims  himself  Lord  Mortimer, 
Descended  from  the  Duke  of  Clarence'  house, 
And  calls  your  ^'rnce  usurper  openly,  30 

And  vows  to  crown  himself  in  Westminster. 
His  army  is  a  ragged  multitude 
Of  hinds  and  ])easants,  rude  and  merciless : 
Sir  Humphrey  Stafford  and  his  brother's  deatli 
Hath  given  them  heart  and  courage  to  proceed  : 
All  scholars,  lawyers,  courtiers,  gentlemen, 
They  call  false  caterpillars  and  intend  their  death. 

King.  O  graceless  men  !   they  know  not  what  they  do. 

Buck.  My  gracious  lord,  retire  to  Killingworth, 

Until  a  power  be  raised  to  put  them  down.  40 

100 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  v. 

Queen.  Ah,  were  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  now  aHve, 

These  Kentish  rebels  would  be  soon  appeased ! 
King.  Lord  Say,  the  traitors  hate  thee ; 

Therefore  away  with  us  to  Killingworth. 
Say.  So  might  your  grace's  person  be  in  danger. 

The  sight  of  me  is  odious  in  their  eyes ; 

And  therefore  in  this  city  will  I  stay, 

And  live  alone  as  secret  as  I  may. 

Enter  anotlicr  Messenger. 

Mess.  Jack  Cade  hath  gotten  London  bridge : 

The  citizens  fly  and  forsake  their  houses :  50 

The  rascal  people,  thirsting  after  prey, 
Join  with  the  traitor,  and  they  jointly  swear 
To  spoil  the  city  and  your  royal  court. 

Buek.  Then  linger  not,  my  lord  ;  away,  take  horse. 

Ki}ig.  Come,  Margaret ;  God,  our  hope,  will  succour  us. 

Queen.  My  hope  is  gone,  now  Suffolk  is  deceased. 

King.  Farewell,  my  lord  :  trust  not  the  Kentish  rebels. 

Buck.  Trust  nobody,  for  fear  you  be  betray'd. 

Say.  The  trust  I  have  is  in  mine  innocence. 

And  therefore  am  I  bold  and  resolute.      [E-^'eunt.     60 

Scene  V. 

London.     The  Tower. 

Enter  Lord,  Scales  upon  the  Tozver,  ivalking.     Then  enter 
tzi'o  or  three  Citizens  beloiv. 

Scales.  How  now  !  is  Jack  Cade  slain  ? 

First  Cit.  No,  my  lord,  nor  likely  to  be  slain  ;  for 
they  have  won  the  bridge,  killing  all  those  that 
withstand  them :    the  lord  mayor  craves  aid  of 

lOI 


Act  IV.  Sc.  vi.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

your  honour  from  the  Tower  to  defend  the  city 
from  the  rebels. 
Scales.  Such  aid  as  I  can  spare  you  shall  command ; 
But  I  am  troubled  here  with  them  myself  ; 
The  rebels  have  assay' d  to  win  the  Tower. 
But  get  you  to  Smithfield  and  gather  head.  lo 

And  thither  I  will  send  you  Matthew  Gofife : 
Fight  for  your  king,  your  country,  and  your  lives  ; 
And  so,  farewell,  for  I  must  hence  again.       [Exeioif. 

Scene  VI. 

London.     Caujioii  Street. 

Enter  Jack  Cade  and  the  rest,  and  strikes  Jiis  staif 
on  London-stone. 

Cade.  Now  is  Mortimer  lord  of  this  city.  And  here, 
sitting  upon  London-stone,  I  charge  and  com- 
mand that,  of  the  city's  cost,  the  pissing-conduit 
run  nothing  but  claret  wane  this  first  year  of  our 
reign.  And  now  henceforward  it  shall  be  treason 
for  any  that  calls  me  other  than  Lord  Mortimer. 

Enter  a  Soldier,  running. 

Sold.  Jack  Cade  !    Jack  Cade ! 

Cade.  Knock  him  down  there.  [They  kill  him. 

Smith.  If  this   fellow  be   wise,   he  '11   never  call   ve 

Jack  Cade  more :    I  think  he  hath  a  very  fair     lo 

w^arning. 
Diek.  My  lord,  there  's  an  army  gathered  together  in 

Smithfield. 
Cade.  Come,   then,   let's   go  fight   with   them:    but 

first,  go  and  set  London  bridge  on  fire ;   and,  if 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  vii. 


you   can,   burn 

down   the   Tower   too. 

Come, 

let 's  away. 

Scene  VII. 

[Exeunt. 

London.    Smithficld. 

Alarums.    Matthew  Goife  is  slain,  and  all  the  rest. 
Then  enter  Jack  Cade,  with  his  company. 

Cade.  So,  sirs :  now  go  some  and  pull  down  the 
Savoy ;  others  to  the  inns  of  court ;  down 
with  them  all. 

Dick.  I  have  a  suit  unto  your  lordship. 

Cade.  Be  it  a  lordship,  thou  shalt  have  it  for  that  word. 

Dick.  Only  that  the  laws  of  England  may  come  out 
of  your  mouth. 

Holl.  [Aside]  Mass,  'twill  be  sore  law,  then  ;  for  he 
was  thrust  in  the  mouth  with  a  spear,  and  'tis 
not  whole  yet.  lo 

Smith.  [Aside]  Nay,  John,  it  will  be  stinking  law  ; 
for  his  breath  stinks  with  eating  toasted  cheese. 

Cade.  I  have  thought  upon  it,  it  shall  be  so.  Away, 
luirn  all  the  records  of  the  realm :  my  mouth 
shall  be  the  parliament  of  England. 

IIoll.  [Aside]  Then  we  are  like  to  have  biting  stat- 
utes unless  his  teeth  be  pulled  out. 

Cade.  And  henceforward  all  things  shall  be  in 
common. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  My  lord,  a  prize,  a  prize !    here  's  the  Lord 

Say,  which  sold  the  towns  in  France ;    he  that     20 
made  us  pay  one  and  twenty  fifteens,  and  one 
shilling  to  the  pound,  the  last  subsidy. 

103 


Act  IV.  Sc.  vii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Enter  George  Bevis,  ivitli  the  Lord  Say. 
Cade.  Well,  he  shall  be  beheaded  for  it  ten  times. 
Ah,  thou  say,  thou  serge,  nay,   thou  buckram 
lord!    now  art  thou  within  point-blank  of  our 
jurisdiction    regal.      What    canst    thou    answer 
to  my  majesty  for  giving  up  of  Xormandy  unto 
Mounsieur  Basimecu,   the  dauphin   of   France? 
Be  it  known  unto  thee  by  these  presence,  even 
the  presence  of  Lord  Mortimer,  that  I  am  the     30 
besom  that  must  sweep  the  court  clean  of  such 
filth  as  thou  art.     Thou  hast  most  traitorously 
corrupted  the  youth  of  the  realm  in  erecting  a 
grammar  school :  and  whereas,  before,  our  fore- 
fathers had  no  other  books  but  the  score  and  the 
tally,  thou  hast  caused  printing  to  be  used,  and, 
contrary  to  the  king,  his  crown  and  dignity,  thou 
hast  built  a  paper-mill.     It  will  be  proved  to  thy 
face  that  thou  hast  men  about  thee  that  usually 
talk  of  a  noun  and  a  verb,  and  such  abominable     40 
words  as  no  Christian,  ear  can  endure  to  hear. 
Thou  hast  appointed  justices  of  peace,  to  call 
poor  men  before  them  about  matters  they  were 
not  able  to  answer.     Moreover,  thou  hast  put 
them  in  prison  ;  and  because  they  could  not  read, 
thou  hast  hanged  them  :   when,  indeed,  only  for 
■   that  cause  they  have  been  most  worthy  to  live. 
Thou    dost    ride    in    a    foot-cloth,    dost    thou 
not  ? 
Say,  What  of  that  ?  50 

Cade,  Marry,  thou  oughtest  not  to  let  thy  horse  wear 
a  cloak,  when  honester  men  than  thou  go  in  their 
hose  and  doublets. 

104 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  vii. 

Dick.  And  work  in  their  shirt  too;  as  myself,  for 
example,  that  am  a  butcher. 

Say.  You  men  of  Kent, — 

Dick.  What  say  you  of  Kent? 

Say.  Nothing  but  this;   'tis  '  bona  terra,  mala  gens.' 

Cade.  Away  with  him,  away  with  him!    he  speaks 

Latin.  60 

Say.  Hear  me  but  speak,  and  bear  me  where  you  will. 
Kent,  in  the  Commentaries  Caesar  writ, 
Is  term'd  the  civil'st  place  of  all  this  isle: 
Sweet  is  the  country,  because  full  of  riches; 
The  people  liberal,  valiant,  active,  wealthy; 
Which  makes  me  hope  you  are  not  void  of  pity. 
I  sold  not  Maine,  I  lost  not  Normandy, 
Yet,  to  recover  them,  would  lose  my  life. 
Justice  with  favour  have  I  always  done; 
Prayers  and  tears  have  moved  me,  gifts  could  never. 
When  have  I  aught  exacted  at  your  hands,  y\ 

But  to  maintain  the  king,  the  realm,  and  you? 
Large  gifts  have  I  bestow'd  on  learned  clerks. 
Because  my  book  preferr'd  me  to  the  king. 
And  seeing  ignorance  is  the  curse  of  God, 
Knowledge  the  wing  wherewith  we  fly  to  heaven. 
Unless  you  be  possessed  with  devilish  spirits. 
You  cannot  but  forbear  to  murder  me: 
This  tongue  hath  parley'd  unto  foreign  kings 
For  your  behoof, —  80 

Cade.  Tut,  when  struck'st  thou  one  blow  in  the  field? 

Say.  Great  men  have  reaching  hands:   oft  have  I  struck 
Those  that  I  never  saw  and  struck  them  dead. 

Geo.  O  monstrous  coward!    what,  to  come  behind 
folks? 

105 


Act  IV.  Sc.  vii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Say.  These  cheeks  are  pale  for  watching  for  your  good. 

Cade.  Give  him  a  box  o'  the  ear  and  that  will  make 
'em  red  again. 

Say.  Long  sitting  to  determine  poor  men's  causes 

Hath  made  me  full  of  sickness  and  diseases.  90 

Cade.  Ye  shall  have  a  hempen  caudle  then  and  the 
help  of  hatchet. 

Diek.  Why  dost  thou  quiver,  man  ? 

Say.  The  palsy,  and  not  fear,  provokes  me. 

Cade.  Nay,  he  nods  at  us,  as  who  should  say,  I  '11  be 
even  with  you:  I  '11  see  if  his  head  will  stand 
steadier  on  a  pole,  or  no.  Take  him  away,  and 
behead  him. 

Say.  Tell  me  wherein  have  I  offended  most? 

Have  I  affected  wealth  or  honour?    speak.  100 

Are  my  chests  fill'd  up  with  extorted  gold? 

Is  my  apparel  sumptuous  to  behold? 

Whom  have  I  injured,  that  ye  seek  my  death? 

These  hands  are  free  from  guiltless  1)lood-shedding, 

This  ])reast  from  harbouring  foul  deceitful  thoughts. 

O,  let  me  live! 

Cade.  [Aside]  I  feel  remorse  in  myself  with  his 
words  ;  but  I  '11  bridle  it :  he  shall  die,  an  it  be 
but  for  pleading  so  well  for  his  life.  Away 
with  him!  he  has  a  familiar  under  his  tongue;  tto 
he  speaks  not  o'  God's  name.  Go,  take  him 
away.  I  say,  and  strike  off  his  head  presentlv; 
and  then  break  into  his  son-in-law's  house,  Sir 
James  Cromer,  and  strike  off  liis  head,  and 
bring  them  both  upon  two  poles  hither. 

All.  It  shall  be  done. 

Say.  Ah,  countrymen!   if  when  you  make  your  prayers, 

106 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  viii. 

God  should  be  so  obdurate  as  yourselves, 

How  would  it  fare  with  your  departed  souls  ? 

And  therefore  yet  relent,  and  save  my  life.  120 

Cade.  Away  with  him !  and  do  as  I  command  ye. 

[Exeunt  some  zcith  Lord  Say. 
The  proudest  peer  in  the  realm  shall  not  wear  a 
•  head  on  his  sb.oulders,  unless  he  pay  me  tribute ; 
there  shall  not  a  maid  be  married,  but  she  shall 
pay  to  me  her  maidenhead  ere  they  have  it :  men 
shall  hold  of  me  in  capite ;  and  we  charge  and 
command  that  their  wives  be  as  free  as  heart  can 
wish  or  tongue  can  tell. 

Dick.  My  lord,  when  shall  we  go  to  Cheapside  and 

take  up  commodities  upon  our  bills  ?  130 

Cade.  Marry,  presently. 

All.  O,  brave! 

Re-enter  one  zi'ith  the  heads. 

Cade.  But  is  not  this  braver?  Let  them  kiss  one 
another,  for  they  loved  well  when  they  were 
alive.  Xow  part  them  again,  lest  they  consult 
about  the  giving  up  of  some  more  towns  in 
France.  Soldiers,  defer  the  spoil  of  the  city 
until  night :  for  with  these  borne  before  us,  in- 
stead of  maces,  will  we  ride  through  the  streets;  139 
and  at  every  corner  have  them  kiss.    Away !  [Exeunt. 

Scene  VIII. 

Southzvark. 

Alarum  and  retreat.     Enter  Cade  and  all  his  rahblement. 

Cade.  Up  Fish  Street !  down  Saint  IMagnus'  Corner ! 
kill  and  knock  down !   throw  them  into  Thames ! 

107 


Act  IV.  Sc.  viii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

[Sound  a  parley.]  What  noise  is  this  I  hear? 
Dare  any  be  so  bold  to  sound  retreat  or  parley, 
when  I  command  them  kill? 

Enter  Buckingham  and  Clifford,  attended. 

Buck.  Ay,  here  they  be  that  dare  and  will  disturb  thee: 
Know,  Cade,  we  come  ambassadors  from  the  king 
Unto  the  commons  whom  thou  hast  misled ; 
And  here  pronounce  free  pardon  to  them  all, 
That  will  forsake  thee  and  go  home  in  peace.  lo 

Clif.  What  say  ye,  countrymen  ?  will  ye  relent, 
And  yield  to  mercy  whilst  'tis  offer'd  you ; 
Or  let  a  rebel  lead  you  to  your  deaths  ? 
Who  loves  the  king  and  will  embrace  his  pardon. 
Fling  up  his  cap,  and  say  '  God  save  his  majesty ! ' 
Who  hateth  him  and  honours  not  his  father, 
Henry  the  Fifth,  that  made  all  France  to  quake. 
Shake  he  his  weapon  at  us  and  pass  by. 

All.  God  save  the  king !    God  save  the  king ! 

Cade.  What,  Buckingham  and  Clifford,  are  ye  so  20 
brave?  And  you,  base  peasants,  do  ye  believe 
him?  will  you  needs  be  hanged  with  your 
pardons  about  your  necks?  Hath  my  sword 
therefore  broke  through  London  gates,  that  you 
should  leave  me  at  the  White  Hart  in  South- 
wark  ?  I  thought  ye  would  never  have  given  out 
these  arms  till  you  had  recovered  your  ancient 
freedom  :  but  you  are  all  recreants  and  dastards, 
and  delight  to  live  in  slavery  to  the  nobility. 
Let  them  break  your  backs  with  burthens,  take  30 
your  houses  over  your  heads,  ravish  your  wives 

108 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  viii. 

and  daughters  before  your  faces :  for  me,  I  will 
make  shift  for  one ;  and  so,  God's  curse  light 
upon  you  all ! 

All,  We  '11  follow  Cade,  we  '11  follow  Cade ! 

Clif.  Is  Cade  the  son  of  Henry  the  Fifth, 

That  thus  you  do  exclaim  you  '11  go  with  him  ? 

Will  he  conduct  you  through  the  heart  of  France, 

And  make  the  meanest  of  you  earls  and  dukes  ? 

Alas,  he  hath  no  home,  no  place  to  fly  to ;  40 

Nor  knows  he  how  to  live  but  by  the  spoil, 

Unless  by  robbing  of  your  friends  and  us. 

Were  't  not  a  shame,  that  whilst  you  live  at  jar. 

The  fearful  French,  whom  you  late  vanquished. 

Should  make  a  start  o'er  seas  and  vanquish  you? 

Methinks  already  in  this  civil  broil 

I  see  them  lording  it  in  London  streets, 

Crying  '  Villiago !  '  unto  all  they  meet. 

Better  ten  thousand  base-born  Cades  miscarry,  40 

Than  you  should  stoop  unto  a  Frenchman's  mercy. 

To  France,  to  France,  and  get  what  you  have  lost ; 

Spare  England,  for  it  is  your  native  coast : 

Henry  hath  money,  you  are  strong  and  manly  ; 

God  on  our  side,  doubt  not  of  victory. 

All.  A  Clifford!    a  CHfford!    we'll  follow  the  king 
and  Clifford. 

Cade.  Was  ever  feather  so  lightly  blown  to  and  fro 
as  this  multitude?  The  name  of  Henry  the 
Fifth  hales  them  to  an  hundred  mischiefs  and 
makes  them  leave  me  desolate.  I  see  them  lay  60 
their  heads  together  to  surprise  me.  My  sword 
make  way  for  me,  for  here  is  no  staying.  In 
despite  of  the  devils  and  hell,  have  through  the 
109 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ix.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

very  middest  of  you !  and  heavens  and  honour 
be  witness  that  no  want  of  resolution  in  me, 
but  only  my  followers'  base  and  ignominious 
treasons,  makes  me  betake  me  to  my  heels.  [Exit. 

Buck.  What,  is  he  fled?    Go  some,  and  follow  him; 
And  he  that  brings  his  head  unto  the  king 
Shall  have  a  thousand  crowns  for  his  reward.  70 

[Exeunt  some  of  them. 
Follow  me,  soldiers :   we  '11  devise  a  mean 
To  reconcile  you  all  unto  the  king.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  IX. 

Kenikvorth  Castle. 

Sound  trumpets.     Enter  King,  Queen,  and  Somerset, 
on  the  terrace. 

King.  Was  ever  king  that  joy'd  an  earthly  throne, 
And  could  command  no  more  content  than  I  ? 
No  sooner  was  I  crept  out  of  my  cradle 
Rut  I  was  made  a  king,  at  nine  months  old. 
Was  never  subject  long'd  to  be  a  king 
As  I  do  long  and  wish  to  be  a  subject. 

Enter  Buckingham  and  Clifford. 

Buck.  Health  and  glad  tidings  to  your  majesty! 
King.  Why,  Buckingham,  is  the  traitor  Cade  surprised? 
Or  is  he  but  retired  to  make  him  strong? 

Enter,  belozi\  multitudes,  zvith  halters  about  their  necks. 

Clif.  He  is  fled,  my  lord,  and  all  his  powers  do  yield ; 

And  humbly  thus,  with  halters  on  their  necks,  1 1 

Expect  your  highness'  doom,  of  life  or  death. 

no 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  ix. 

King.  Then,  heaven,  set  ope  thy  everlasting  gates, 
To  entertain  my  vows  of  thanks  and  praise  ! 
Soldiers,  this  day  have  you  redeem'd  your  lives. 
And   show'd   how   well   you   love   your   prince   and 

country : 
Continue  still  in  this  so  good  a  mind, 
And  Henry,  though  he  be  infortunate. 
Assure  yourselves,  will  never  be  unkind : 
And  so,  with  thanks  and  pardon  to  you  all,  20 

I  do  dismiss  you  to  your  several  countries. 

All.  God  save  the  king !    God  save  the  king ! 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  Please  it  your  grace  to  be  advertised 

The  Duke  of  York  is  newly  come  from  Ireland, 

And  with  a  puissant  and  a  mighty  power 

Of  gallowglasses  and  stout  kernes 

Is  marching  hitherward  in  proud  array, 

And  still  proclaimeth,  as  he  comes  along, 

His  arms  are  only  to  remove  from  thee 

The  Duke  of  Somerset,  whom  he  terms  a  traitor.     30 

King.  Thus  stands  my  state,  'twixt  Cade  and  York  dis- 
tress'd ;      * 
Like  to  a  ship  that,  having  'scaped  a  tempest, 
Is  straightway  calm'd  and  boarded  with  a  pirate : 
But  now  is  Cade  driven  back,  his  men  dispersed ; 
And  now  is  York  in  arms  to  second  him. 
I  pray  thee,  Buckingham,  go  and  meet  him. 
And  ask  him  what 's  the  reason  of  these  arms. 
Tell  him  I  '11  send  Duke  Edmund  to  the  Tower ; 
And,  Somerset,  we  will  commit  thee  thither, 
Until  his  army  be  dismiss'd  from  him.  40 

III 


Act  IV.  Sc.  X.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Som.  My  lord, 

I  '11  yield  myself  to  prison  willingly, 

Or  unto  death,  to  do  my  country  good. 
King.  In  any  case,  be  not  too  rough  in  terms ; 

For  he  is  fierce  and  cannot  brook  hard  language. 
Buck.  I  will,  my  lord  ;  and  doubt  not  so  to  deal 

As  all  things  shall  redound  unto  your  good. 
King.  Come,  wife,  let 's  in,  and  learn  to  govern  better ; 

For  yet  may  England  curse  my  wretched  reign. 

[Flourish.    Exeunt. 

Scene  X. 

Kent.    I  den's  garden. 

Enter  Cade. 

Cade.  Fie  on  ambition !  fie  on  myself,  that  have  a 
sword,  and  yet  am  ready  to  famish !  These  five 
days  have  I  hid  me  in  these  woods  and  durst  not 
peep  out,  for  all  the  country  is  laid  for  me ;  but 
now  am  I  so  hungry  that  if  I  might  have  a  lease 
of  my  life  for  a  thousand  years  I  could  stay  no 
longer.  Wherefore,  on  a  brick  wall  have  I 
climbed  into  this  garden,  to  see'  if  I  can  eat 
^  grass,  or  pick  a  sallet  another  while,  which  is 
not  amiss  to  cool  a  man's  stomach  this  hot  lo 
weather.  And  I  think  this  word  '  sallet '  was 
born  to  do  me  good :  for  many  a  time,  but  for 
a  sallet,  my  brain-pan  had  been  cleft  with  a 
brown  feill ;  and  many  a  time,  when  I  have  been 
dry  and  bravely  marching,  it  hath  served  me 
instead  of  a  quart  pot  to  drink  in ;  and  now  the 
word  '  sallet '  must  serve  me  to  feed  on. 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  IV.  Sc.  x. 

Enter  Idcn. 

Idcn.  Lord,  who  would  live  turmoiled  in  the  court, 
And  may  enjoy  such  quiet  walks  as  these? 
This  small  inheritance  my  father  left  me  20 

Contenteth  me,  and  worth  a  monarchy. 
I  seek  not  to  wax  great  by  others'  waning, 
Or  gather  wealth,  I  care  not  with  what  envy: 
Sufficeth  that  I  have  maintains  my  state, 
And  sends  the  poor  well  pleased  from  my  gate. 

Cade.  Here  's  the  lord  of  the  soil  come  to  seize  me 
for  a  stray,  for  entering  his  fee-simple  without 
leave.  Ah,  villain,  thou  wilt  betray  me,  and 
get  a  thousand  crowns  of  the  king  by  carrying 
my  head  to  him :  but  I  '11  make  thee  eat  iron  30 
like  an  ostrich,  and  swallow  my  sword  like  a 
great  pin,  ere  thou  and  I  part. 

Iden.  Why,  rude  companion,  whatsoe'er  thou  be, 

I  know  thee  not ;   why  then  should  I  betray  thee  ? 
Is  't  not  enough  to  break  into  my  garden. 
And,  like  a  thief,  to  come  to  rob  my  grounds, 
Climbing  my  walls  in  spite  of  me  the  owner. 
But  thou  wilt  brave  me  with  these  saucy  terms? 

Cade.  Brave  thee!    ay,  by  the  best  blood  that  ever 

was  broached,  and  beard  thee  too.     Look  on     40 
me  well:  I  have  eat  no  meat  these  five  days; 
yet,  come  thou  and  thy  five  men,  and  if  I  do 
not  leave  you  all  as  dead  as-  a  door-nail,  I  pray 
God  I  may  never  eat  grass  more. 

Ideri.  Nay,  it  shall  ne'er  be  said,  while  England  stands, 
That  Alexander  Iden,  an  esquire  of  Kent, 
Took  odds  to  combat  a  poor  famish'd  man. 

113 


Act  IV.  Sc.  X.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Oppose  thy  steadfast-gazing  eyes  to  mine, 

See  if  thou  canst  outface  me  with  thy  looks : 

Set  hmb  to  hmb,  and  thou  art  far  the  lesser;  50 

Thy  hand  is  but  a  finger  to  my  fist, 

Thy  leg  a  stick  compared  with  this  truncheon; 

My  foot  shall  fight  with  all  the  strength  thou  hast; 

And  if  mine  arm  be  heaved  in  the  air, 

Thy  grave  is  digg'd  already  in  the  earth. 

As  for  words,  whose  greatness  answers  words, 

Let  this  my  sword  report  what  speech  forbears. 

Cade.  By  my  valour,  the  most  complete  champion 
that  ever  I  heard!  Steel,  if  thou  turn  the  edge, 
or  cut  not  out  the  burly-boned  clown  in  chines  60 
of  beef  ere  thou  sleep  in  thy  sheath,  I  beseech 
God  on  my  knees  thou  mayst  be  turned  to  hob- 
nails. [Here  they  iight.  Cade  falls. 
O,  I  am  slain!  famine  and  no  other  hath  slain 
me:  let  ten  thousand  devils  come  against  me, 
and  give  me  but  the  ten  meals  I  have  lost,  and 
I  'Id  defy  them  all.  Wither,  garden  ;  and  be 
henceforth  a  burying-place  to  all  that  do  dwell 
in  this  house,  because  the  unconquered  soul  of 
Cade  is  fied.  70 

I  den.  Is  't  Cade  that  I  have  slain,  that  monstrous  traitor? 
Sword,  I  will  hallow  thee  for  this  thy  deed, 
And  hang  thee  o'er  my  tomb  when  I  am  dead: 
Ne'er  shall  this  blood  be  wiped  from  thy  point; 
But  thou  shalt  wear  it  as  a  herald's  coat. 
To  emblaze  the  honour  that  thy  master  got 

Ciide.  Iden,  farewell,  and  be  proud  of  thy  victory. 
Tell  Kent  from  me,  she  hath  lost  her  best  man, 
and  exhort  all  the  world  to  be  cowards;   for  I, 

114 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

that  never  feared  any,  am  vanquished  by  famine,     8o 

not  by  valour.  [Dies. 

I  den.  How  much  thou  wrongest  me,  heaven  be  my  judge. 

Die,    damned    wretch,    the    curse   of   her   that   bare 

thee ; 
And  as  I  thrust  thy  body  in  with  my  sword, 
So  wish  I,  I  might  thrust  thy  soul  to  hell. 
Hence  will  I  drag  thee  headlong  by  the  heels 
Unto  a  dunghill  which  shall  be  thy  grave, 
And  there  cut  off  thy  most  ungracious  head ; 
Which  I  will  bear  in  triumph  to  the  king, 
Leaving  thy  trunk  for  crows  to  feed  upon.  90 

[Exit. 

ACT  FIFTH. 

Scene  I. 

Fields  between  Dartford  and  Blackheath. 

Enter  York,  and  his  army  of  Irish,  zvith  drum 
and  colours. 

York.  From  Ireland  thus  comes  York  to  claim  his  right, 
And  pluck  the  crown  from  feeble  Henry's  head : 
Ring,  bells,  aloud ;  burn,  bonfires,  clear  and  bright. 
To  entertain  great  England's  lawful  king. 
Ah!   sancta  majestas,  who  would  not  buy  thee  dear? 
Let  them  obey  that  know  not  how  to  rule ; 
This  hand  was  made  to  handle  nought  but  gold. 
I  cannot  give  due  action  to  my  words, 
Except  a  sword  or  sceptre  balance  it : 
A  sceptre  shall  it  have,  have  T  a  soul,  10 

On  which  T  '11  toss  the  flower-de-luce  of  France. 

115 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Enter  Buckino-hani. 


'^>' 


Whom  have  we  here  ?    Buckingham,  to  disturb  me  ? 
The  king  hath  sent  him,  sure :  I  must  dissemble. 

Buck.  York,  if  thou  meanest  well,  I  greet  thee  well. 

York.  Humphrey  of  Buckingham,  I  accept  thy  greeting. 
Art  thou  a  messenger,  or  come  of  pleasure  ? 

Buck.  A  messenger  from  Henry,  our  dread  liege. 
To  know  the  reason  of  these  arms  in  peace ; 
Or  why  thou,  being  a  subject  as  I  am. 
Against  thy  oath  and  true  allegiance  sworn,  20 

Should  raise  so  great  a  power  without  his  leave, 
Or  dare  to  bring  thy  force  so  near  the  court. 

York.  [Aside]  Scarce  can  I  speak,  my  choler  is  so  great : 
O,  I  could  hew  up  rocks  and  fight  with  flint, 
I  am  so  angry  at  these  abject  terms  ; 
And  now,  like  Ajax  Telamonius, 
On  sheep  or  oxen  could  I  spend  my  fury. 
I  am  far  better  born  than  is  the  king, 
More  like  a  king,  more  kingly  in  my  thoughts : 
But  I  must  make  fair  weather  yet  a  while.  30 

Till  Henry  be  more  weak  and  I  more  strong. — ► 
Buckingham,  I  prithee,  pardon  me. 
That  I  have  given  no  answer  all  this  while  ; 
My  mind  was  troubled  with  deep  melancholy. 
The  cause  why  I  have  brought  this  army  hither 
Is  to  remove  proud  Somerset  from  the  king, 
Seditious  to  his  grace  and  to  the  state. 

Buck.  That  is  too  much  presumption  on  thy  part : 
But  if  thy  arms  be  to  no  other  end, 
The  king  hath  yielded  unto  thy  demand :  40 

The  Duke  of  Somerset  is  in  the  Tower. 
116 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

York.  Upon  thine  honour,  is  he  prisoner? 

Buck.  Upon  mine  honour,  he  is  prisoner. 

York.  Then,  Buckingham,  I  do  dismiss  my  powers. 
Soldiers,  I  thank  you  all ;   disperse  yourselves  ; 
Meet  me  to-morrow  in  Saint  George's  field, 
You  shall  have  pay  and  every  thing  you  wish. 
And  let  my  sovereign,  virtuous  Henry, 
Command  my  eldest  son,  nay,  all  my  sons, 
As  pledges  of  my  fealty  and  love ;  50 

I  '11  send  them  all  as  willing  as  I  live : 
Lands,  goods,  horse,  armour,  any  thing  I  have, 
Is  his  to  use,  so  Somerset  may  die. 

Buck.  York,  I  commend  this  kind  submission  : 
We  twain  will  go  into  his  highness'  tent. 

Enter  King  and  Attendants. 

King.  Buckingham,  doth  York  intend  no  harm  to  us. 

That  thus  he  marcheth  with  thee  arm  in  arm  ? 
York.   In  all  submission  and  humility 

York  doth  present  himself  unto  your  highness. 
King.  Then  what  intends  these  forces  thou  dost  bring? 
York.  To  heave  the  traitor  Somerset  from  hence,  61 

And  fight  against  that  monstrous  rebel  Cade, 

Who  since  I  heard  to  be  discomfited. 

Enter  I  den,  zi'ith  Cade's  head. 

I  den.  If  one  so  rude  and  of  so  mean  condition 
May  pass  into  the  presence  of  a  king, 
Lo,  I  present  your  grace  a  traitor's  head. 
The  head  of  Cade,  whom  I  in  combat  slew. 

King.  The  head  of  Cade !    Great  God,  how  just  art  Thou ! 
O,  let  me  view  his  visage,  being  dead, 

117 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

That  living  wrought  me  such  exceeding  trouble.      70 

Tell  me,  my  friend,  art  thou  the  man  that  slew  him  ? 
I  den.  I  was,  an  't  like  your  majesty. 
King.  How  art  thou  call'd  ?  and  what  is  thy  degree  ? 
Iden.  Alexander  Iden,  that 's  my  name; 

A  poor  esquire  of  Kent,  that  loves  his  king. 
Buck.  So  please  it  you,  my  lord,  'twere  not  amiss 

He  were  created  knight  for  his  good  service. 
King.  Iden,  kneel  down.     [He  kneels.]     Rise  up  a  knight. 

We  give  thee  for  reward  a  thousand  marks, 

And  will  that  thou  henceforth  attend  on  us.  80 

Iden.  May  Iden  live  to  merit  such  a  bounty, 

And  never  live  but  true  unto  his  liege !  [Rises. 

Enter  Queen  and  Somerset. 

King.  See,  Buckingham,  Somerset  comes  with  the  queen  : 
Go,  bid  her  hide  him  quickly  from  the  duke. 

Queen.  For  thousand  Yorks  he  shall  not  hide  his  head, 
But  boldly  stand  and  front  him  to  his  face. 

York.  How  now!   is  Somerset  at  libertv? 

Then,  York,  unloose  thy  long-imprison'd  thoughts. 

And  let  thy  tongue  be  equal  with  thy  heart. 

Shall  I  endure  the  sight  of  Somerset  ?  90 

False  king !  why  hast  thou  broken  faith  with  me, 

Knowing  how  hardly  I  can  brook  abuse  ? 

King  did  I  call  thee  ?  no,  thou  art  not  king. 

Not  fit  to  govern  and  rule  multitudes. 

Which  darest  not,  no,  nor  canst  not  rule  a  traitor. 

That  head  of  thine  doth  not  become  a  crown  : 

Thy  hand  is  made  to  grasp  a  palmer's  staff. 

And  not  to  grace  an  awful  princely  sceptre. 

That  gold  must  round  engirt  these  brows  of  mine, 

118 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Whose  smile  and  frown,  like  to  Achilles'  spear,      lOO 

Is  able  with  the  chang-e  to  kill  and  cure. 

Here  is  a  hand  to  hold  a  sceptre  up, 

And  with  the  same  to  act  controlling  laws. 

Give  place  :  by  heaven,  thou  shalt  rule  no  more 

O'er  him  w^hom  heaven  created  for  thy  ruler. 

Som.  O  monstrous  traitor !     I  arrest  thee,  York, 
Of  capital  treason  'gainst  the  king  and  crown : 
Obey,  audacious  traitor ;   kneel  for  grace. 

York.  Wouldst  have  me  kneel  ?  first  let  me  ask  of  these, 
If  they  can  brook  I  bow  a  knee  to  man.  i  lo 

Sirrah,  call  in  my  sons  to  be  my  bail : 

[Exit  Attendant. 
I  know,  ere  they  will  have  me  go  to  ward. 
They  '11  pawn  their  swords  for  my  enfranchisement. 

Queen.  Call  hither  Clifford ;  bid  him  come  amain, 
To  say  if  that  the  bastard  boys  of  York 
Shall  be  the  surety  for  their  traitor  father. 

[Exit  Buckingham. 

York.  O  blood-bespotted  Neapolitan, 

Outcast  of  Naples,  England's  bloody  scourge ! 
The  sons  of  York,  thy  betters  in  their  birth. 
Shall  be  their  father's  bail ;  and  bane  to  those         120 
That  for  my  surety  will  refuse  the  boys ! 

Enter  Edzvard  and  Richard. 

See  where  they  come :    I  '11  warrant  they  '11  make  it 
good. 

Enter  Cliiford  and  his  son. 

Queen.  And  here  comes  Clifford  to  deny  their  bail. 
Clif.  Health  and  all  happiness  to  my  lord  the  king ! 

[Kneels, 
119 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

York.  I  thank  thee,  CHfford  :  say,  what  news  with  thee  ? 
Nay,  da  not  fright  us  with  an  angry  look : 
We  are  thy  sovereign,  CHfford,  kneel  again  ; 
For  thy  mistaking  so,  we  pardon  thee. 

Clif.  This  is  my  king,  York,  I  do  not  mistake ; 

But  thou  mistakest  me  much  to  think* I  do:  130 

To  Bedlam  with  him !   is  the  man  grown  mad  ? 

King.  Ay,  Clifford  ;  a  bedlam  and  ambitious  humour 
Makes  him  oppose  himself  against  his  king. 

Clif.  He  is  a  traitor ;  let  him  to  the  Tower, 
And  chop  away  that  factious  pate  of  his. 

Queen.  He  is  arrested,  but  will  not  obey; 

His  sons,  he  says,  shall  give  their  w^ords  for  him. 

York.  Will  you  not,  sons? 

Edzi'.  Ay,  noble  father,  if  our  words  will  serve. 

Rich.  And  if  words  will  not,  then  our  weapons  shall. 

Clif.  Why,  what  a  brood  of  traitors  have  we  here!        141 

York.  Look  in  a  glass,  and  call  thy  image  so : 

I  am  thy  king,  and  thou  a  false-heart  traitor. 
Call  hither  to  the  stake  my  two  brave  bears, 
That  with  the  very  shaking  of  their  chains 
They  may  astonish  these  fell-lurking  curs  : 
Bid  Salisbury  and  Warwick  come  to  me. 

Enter  the  Earls  of  Warzvick  and  Salisbury. 

Clif.  Are  these  thy  bears  ?  we  '11  bait  thy  bears  to  death. 
And  manacle  the  bear-ward  in  their  chains, 
If  thou  darest  bring  them  to  the  baiting-place.         150 

Rich.  Oft  have  I  seen  a  hot  o'er  weening  cur 

Run  back  and  bite,  because  he  was  withheld ; 
Who,  being  suffer'd  with  the  bear's  fell  paw. 
Hath  clapp'd  his  tail  between  his  legs  and  cried : 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

And  such  a  piece  of  service  will  you  do, 

If  you  oppose  yourselves  to  match  Lord  Warwick. 

Clif.  Hence,  heap  of  wrath,  foul  indigested  lump, 
As  crooked  in  thy  manners  as  thy  shape ! 

York.   Nay,  we  shall  heat  you  thoroughly  anon. 

Clif.  Take  heed,  lest  by  your  heat  you  burn  yourselves. 

Ki)}g.  AMiy,  Warwick,  hath  thy  knee  forgot  to  bow?    i6i 
Old  Salisbury,  shame  to  thy  silver  hair. 
Thou  mad  misleader  of  thy  brain-sick  son ! 
What,  wilt  thou  on  thy  death-bed  play  the  ruffian, 
And  seek  for  sorrow  with  thy  spectacles  ? 
O,  where  is  faith  ?    O,  where  is  loyalty  ? 
If  it  be  banish'd  from  the  frosty  head, 
Where  shall  it  find  a  harbour  in  the  earth  ? 
Wilt  thou  go  dig  a  grave  to  find  out  war. 
And  shame  thine  honourable  age  with  blood?        170 
Why  art  thou  old,  and  want'st  experience  ? 
Or  wherefore  dost  abuse  it,  if  thou  hast  it  ? 
For  shame !  in  duty  bend  thy  knee  to  me, 
That  bows  unto  the  grave  with  mickle  age. 

Sal.  My  lord,  I  have  consider'd  with  myself 
The  title  of  this  most  renowned  duke  ; 
And  in  my  conscience  do  repute  his  grace 
The  rightful  heir  to  England's  royal  seat. 

King.  Hast  thou  not  sworn  allegiance  unto  me  ? 

Sal.  I  have.  180 

King.  Canst  thou  dispense  with  heaven  for  such  an  oath  ? 

Sal.  It  is  great  sin  to  swear  unto  a  sin, 
But  greater  sin  to  keep  a  sinful  oath. 
Who  can  be  bound  by  any  solemn  vow 
To  do  a  murderous  deed,  to  rob  a  man, 
To  force  a  spotless  virgin's  chastity, 

121 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

To  reave  the  orphan  of  his  patrimony, 

To  wring  the  widow  from  her  custom'd  right, 

And  have  no  other  reason  for  this  wrong 

But  that  he  was  bound  by  a  solemn  oath  ?  190 

Queen.  A  subtle  traitor  needs  no  sophister. 

King.  Call  Buckingham,  and  bid  him  arm  himself. 

York.  Call  Buckingham,  and  all  the  friends  thou  hast, 
I  am  resolved  for  death  or  dignity. 

Clif.  The  first  I  warrant  thee,  if  dreams  prove  true. 

War.  You  were  best  to  go  to  bed  and  dream  again, 
To  keep  thee  from  the  tempest  of  the  field. 

Clif.  I  am  resolved  to  bear  a  greater  storm 
Than  any  thou  canst  conjure  up  to-day ; 
And  that  I  '11  write  upon  thy  burgonet,  200 

Might  I  but  know  thee  by  thy  household  badge. 

War.  Now,  by  my  father's  badge,  old  Nevil's  crest. 
The  rampant  bear  chain'd  to  the  ragged  staff, 
This  day  I  '11  wear  aloft  my  burgonet. 
As  on  a  mountain  top  the  cedar  shows 
That  keeps  his  leaves  in  spite  of  any  storm. 
Even  to  affright  thee  with  the  view  thereof. 

Clif.  And  from  thy  burgonet  I  '11  rend  thy  bear, 
And  tread  it  under  foot  with  all  contempt, 
Despite  the  bear-ward  that  protects  the  bear.  210 

Y.  Clif.  And  so  to  arms,  victorious  father. 
To  quell  the  rebels  and  their  complices. 

Rich.  Fie !  charity,  for  shame !  speak  not  in  spite, 
For  you  shall  sup  with  Jesu  Christ  to-night. 

Y.  Clif.  Foul  stigmatic,  that 's  more  than  thou  canst  tell. 

Rich.  If  not  in  heaven,  you  '11  surely  sup  in  hell. 

[Exeunt  severally. 


122 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

Scene  II. 

Saint  Albans. 

Alarums  to  the  battle.    Enter  Warwick. 

War.  Clifford  of  Cumberland,  'tis  Warwick  calls: 
And  if  thou  dost  not  hide  thee  from  the  bear, 
Now,  when  the  angry  trumpet  sounds  alarum, 
And  dead  men's  cries  do  fill  the  empty  air, 
Clift'ord,  I  say,  come  forth  and  fight  with  me : 
Proud  northern  lord,  Clifford  of  Cumberland, 
Warwick  is  hoarse  with  calling  thee  to  arms. 

Enter  York. 

How  now,  my  noble  lord  !   what,  all  a-foot  ? 
York.  The  deadly-handed  Clifford  slew  my  steed, 

But  match  to  match  I  have  encounter'd  him,  lo 

And  made  a  prey  for  carrion  kites  and  crows 
Even  of  the  bonny  beast  he  loved  so  well. 

Enter  Clifford. 

War.  Of  one  or  both  of  us  the  time  is  come. 

York.  Hold,  W^arwick,  seek  thee  out  some  other  chase. 

For  I  myself  must  hunt  this  deer  to  death. 
War.  Then,  nobly,  York  ;  'tis  for  a  crown  thou  fight'st. 

As  I  intend,  Clifford,  to  thrive  to-day, 

It  grieves  my  soul  to  leave  thee  unassail'd.  [E.rit. 

Clif.  What  seest  thou  in  me,  York  ?  why  dost  thou  pause  ? 
York.  With  thy  brave  bearing  should  I  be  in  love,         20 

But  that  thou  art  so  fast  mine  enemy. 
Clif.  Nor  should  thy  prowess  want  praise  and  esteem 

But  that  'tis  shown  ignobly  and  in  treason. 
York.  So  let  it  help  me  now  against  thy  sword, 

123 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

As  I  in  justice  and  true  right  express  it. 
Clif.  My  soul  and  body  on  the  action  both  ! 
York.  A  dreadful  lay!     Address  thee  instantly. 

[They  fight,  and  Clifford  falls. 

Clif.  La  fin  couronne.lcs  oeuvres.  [Dies. 

York.  Thus  war  hath  given  thee  peace,  for  thou  art  still. 

Peace  with  his  soul,  heaven,  if  it  be  thy  will !  30 

[Exit. 
Enter  Young  Clifford. 

Y.  Clif.  Shame  and  confusion  !  all  is  on  the  rout ; 
Fear  frames  disorder,  and  disorder  wounds 
Where  it  should  guard.    O  war,  thou  son  of  hell, 
Whom  angry  heavens  do  make  their  minister. 
Throw  in  the  frozen  bosoms  of  our  part 
Hot  coals  of  vengeance !    Let  no  soldier  fly. 
He  that  is  truly  dedicate  to  war 
Hath  no  self-love,  nor  he  that  loves  himself 
Hath  not  essentially  but  by  circumstance 
The  name  of  valour.     [Seeing  his  dead  father]  O,  let 
the  vile  world  end,  40 

And  the  premised  flames  of  the  last  day 
Knit  earth  and  heaven  together! 
Now  let  the  general  trumpet  blow  his  blast, 
Particularities  and  petty  sounds 
To  cease !    Wast  thou  ordain'd,  dear  father, 
To  lose  thy  youth  in  peace,  and  to  achieve 
The  silver  livery  of  advised  age, 
And,  in  thy  reverence  and  thy  chair-days,  thus 
To  die  in  ruflian  battle  ?    Even  at  this  sight 
My  heart  is  turn'd  to  stone  :  and  while  'tis  mine,      50 
It  shall  be  stony.    York  not  our  old  men  spares  ; 
No  more  will  I  their  babes :  tears  virginal 
124 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

Shall  be  to  me  even  as  the  dew  to  fire, 

And  beauty  that  the  tyrant  oft  reclaims 

Shall  to  my  flaming  wrath  be  oil  and  flax. 

Henceforth  I  will  not  have  to  do  with  pity : 

Meet  I  an  infant  of  the  house  of  York, 

Into  as  many  gobbets  will  I  cut  it 

As  wild  Medea  young  Absyrtus  did : 

In  cruelty  will  I  seek  out  my  fame.  60 

Come,  thou  new  ruin  of  old  Clifford's  house : 

As  did  ^neas  old  Anchises  bear, 

So  bear  I  thee  upon  my  manly  shoulders ; 

But  then  ^neas  bare  a  living  load, 

Nothing  so  heavy  as  these  woes  of  mine. 

[Exit,  bearing  off  his  father. 

Enter  Richard  and  Somerset  to  tight.     Somerset  is  killed. 

Rich.  So,  lie  thou  there  ; 

For  underneath  an  alehouse'  paltry  sign, 
The  Castle  in  Saint  Alban's,  Somerset 
Hath  made  the  wizard  famous  in  his  death. 
Sword,  hold  thy  temper  ;  heart,  be  wrathful  still : 
Priests  pray  for  enemies,  but  princes  kill.     \Exit.     71 

Fight.    Excursions.    Enter  King,  Queen,  and  others. 

Queen.  Away,  my  lord !  you  are  slow  ;   for  shame,  away ! 
King.  Can  we  outrun  the  heavens?  good  Margaret,  stay. 
Queen.  What  are  you  made  of?  you  '11  nor  fight  nor  fly : 
Xow  is  it  manhood,  wisdom  and  defence. 
To  give  the  enemy  way,  and  to  secure  us 
By  what  we  can,  which  can  no  more  but  fly. 

[Alarum  afar  off. 
If  yOu  be  ta'en,  we  then  should  see  the  bottom 
125 


Act  V.  Sc.  Hi.  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Of  all  our  fortunes  :  but  if  we  haply  scape, 
As  well  we  may,  if  not  through  your  neglect,  80 

We  shall  to  London  get,  where  you  are  loved. 
And  where  this  breach  now  in  our  fortunes  made 
May  readily  be  stopp'd. 

Re-enter  Young  Clifford. 

y.  Clif.  But  that  my  heart 's  on  future  mischief  set, 
I  would  speak  blasphemy  ere  bid  you  fly : 
But  fly  you  must ;   uncurable  discomfit 
Reigns  in  the  hearts  of  all  our  present  parts. 
Away,  for  your  relief !  and  we  will  live 
To  see  their  day  and  them  our  fortune  give : 
Away,  my  lord,  away !  [Exeunt.     9c 

Scene  III. 

Fields  near  Saint  Alhans. 

Alarum.     Retreat.     Enter  York,  Richard,  Warnnck, 
and  Soldiers,  zvith  drum  and  colours. 

York.  Of  Salisbury,  who  can  report  of  him. 
That  winter  lion,  who  in  rage  forgets 
Aged  contusions  and  all  brush  of  time. 
And,  like  a  gallant  in  the  brow  of  youth, 
Repairs  him  with  occasion  ?    This  happy  day 
Ts  not  itself,  nor  have  we  won  one  foot, 
If  Salisbury  be  lost. 

Rich.  My  noble  father, 

Three  times  to-day  I  holp  him  to  his  horse. 
Three  times  bestrid  him  :  thrice  I  led  him  off, 
Persuaded  him  from  any  further  act :  10 

But  still,  where  danger  was,  still  there  I  met  him : 

126 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

And  like  rich  hangings  in  a  homely  house. 
So  was  his  will  in  his  old  feeble  body. 
But,  noble  as  he  is,  look  where  he  comes. 

Enter  Salisbury. 

SaL  Now,  by  my  sword,  well  hast  thou  fought  to-day  ; 
By  the  mass,  so  did  we  all.     I  thank  you,  Richard  : 
God  knows  how  long  it  is  I  have  to  live ; 
And  it  hath  pleased  him  that  three  times  to-day 
You  have  defended  me  from  imminent  death. 
Well,  lords,  we  have  not  got  that  which  we  have : 
'Tis  not  enough  our  foes  are  this  time  fled,  21 

Being  opposites  of  such  repairing  nature. 

York.  I  know  our  safety  is  to  follow  them  ; 
For,  as  I  hear,  the  king  is  fled  to  London, 
To  call  a  present  court  of  parliament. 
Let  us  pursue  him  ere  the  writs  go  forth. 
What  says  Lord  Warwick  ?  shall  we  after  them  ? 

War.  After  them !  nay,  before  them,  if  we  can. 
Now,  by  my  faith,  lords,  'twas  a  glorious  day : 
Saint  x^lban's  battle  won  by  famous  York  30 

Shall  be  eternized  in  all  age  to  come. 
Sound  drums  and  trumpets,  and  to  London  all : 
And  more  such  days  as  these  to  us  befall !       [Exeunt. 


i^y 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Glossary. 


A  ',  he ;  I.  iii.  6. 

.Ibortive,  monstrous,  unnatu- 
ral ;  IV.  i.  60. 

Abrook, hrook,  endure;  II. iv.  10. 

Absyrtus,  Medea's  brother, 
killed  and  dismembered  by 
her  (Theobald's  correction 
of  Folios,  ''  Absirtis  "  ;  Rowe, 
"  Absirtus")  ;  V.  ii.  59. 

Accompt,  accounts;  IV.  ii.  87. 

Accuse,  accusation;  III.  i.  160. 

AcJiillcs'  spear,  alluding  to  the 
story  that  Telephus  was 
cured  by  the  rust  scraped 
from  Achilles'  spear  by  which 
he  had  been  wounded ;  V.  i. 
100. 

Act,  put  in  action  (Capell, 
"enact"',  Vaughan,  "co- 
act");  V.i.  103. 

Adder,  a  venomous  snake,  sup- 
posed to  stop  its  ears  and 
render  itself  deaf  (cp.  Psalm 
Iviii.  4,  5)  ;  III.  ii.  76. 

Address  thee,  prepare  thyself; 
V.  ii.  27 

Adsum,  1  am  here  (Folio  i, 
"Ad  sum  ")  ;  I.  iv.  25. 

Advance,  raise  up  ;  IV.  i.  98. 

Adventure,  run  the  risk;  III. 
ii.  350. 

Advertised,  informed ;  IV.  ix. 
23- 

Advice,  deliberate  considera- 
tion; II.  ii.  68. 


Advised,  careful,  II.  iv.  36;  se- 
date. V.  ii.  47. 

;    "  are    ye    a.,"'     did    you 

hear?  do  you  understand? 
(Capell,  "  avis' d")\  II.  i.  48. 

^olus,  the  god  of  the  winds; 
III.  ii.  92. 

Affected,  aimed  at;  IV.  vii. 
100. 

Affiance,  confidence;  III.  i.  74. 

Affy,  affiance;  IV.  i.  80. 

Aidance,  assistance;  III.  ii.  165. 

Ajax  Telamoniiis,  Ajax  the  son 
of  Telamon,  the  Greek  hero, 
who  slew  a  whole  flock  of 
sheep,  which  in  his  frenzy  he 
took  for  the  sons  of  Atreus ; 
V.  i.  26. 

Alder-liefest,  dearest.  very 
dearest  of  all ;  I.  i.  28. 

Althcea,  the  mother  of  Mele- 
ager,  the  prince  of  Calydon. 
whose  life  was  to  last  only  as 
long  as  a  certain  firebrand 
was  preserved;  Althaea 
threw  it  into  the  fire,  and  he 
died  in  great  torture;  I.  i.  234. 

Amain,  in  great  haste,  swiftly; 

III.  i.  282. 

Anchises,  the  father  of  .Eneas; 

V.  ii.  62. 
An't  like,  if  it  please;  V.  i.  72. 
Approved,  proved;  III.  ii.  22. 
Argo,    a    corruption    of    ergo; 

IV.  ii.  30. 


128 


KING  HENRY  VI. 


Glossary 


Argues,    proves,     shows ;     III. 

iii.  30. 
Argument,  a   sign   in  proof;    I. 

ii.  32;   III.  i.  241. 
Arms,  coat  of  arms;  IV.  i.  42. 
As,  that   (Pope,  "That");  II. 

iv.  45. 
Ascanius,   the    son   of   ^neas ; 

III.  ii.  116. 
Asmath,  the   name   of   an   evil 

spirit ;  I.  iv.  26. 
Assay' d,  attempted ;   IV.  v.  9. 
At  once,  in  a  word ;  III.  i.  66. 
Attainted,   convicted  of  capital 

treason  ;  II.  iv,  59. 
Avoid,  avannt,  be  gone;   I,  iv.  42. 
Azvful,   awe-inspiring;    V.  i.  98. 
Azvkward,  adverse  {Vo^q," ad- 
verse") ;  III.  ii.  83. 

Bait  thy  hears;  bear-baiting 
was  a  popular  amusement  of 
Shakespeare's  day  (Folio  i, 
"  hate  "  ;  Folio  2,  "  haitc  ")  ; 
V.  i.,  148. 

Banditto,  outlaw  (Folios, 
"  Bandetto")  ;  IV.  i.  135. 

Ban-dogs,  fierce  dogs  held  in 
bands,  or  chained ;  I.  iv.  20. 

Bane,  destruction,  ruin  (Theo- 
bald. "  hale  ")  ;  V.  i.  120. 

'  Barguhis  the  strong  Illyrian 
pirate  ' ;  The  Contention 
reads  "  Ahradas,  the  great 
Macedonian  pirate,"  to  whom 
reference  is  made  in  Greene's 
Penelope's  IVeh ;  Bargulus  is 
mentioned  in  Cicero's  Dc 
OMciis ;  his  proper  name  was 
Bardylis ;  he  was  originally 
a  collier,  and  ultimately  be- 
came king  of  Illyria ;  he  was 


defeated  and  slain  in  battle 
by  Philip  of  Macedon ;  IV. 
i.  108. 

Basilisk,  a  fabulous  serpent 
supposed  to  kill  by  its  look ; 
III.  ii.52. 

Basimecu,  a  term  of  contempt 
for  a  Frenchman ;  IV.  vii.  28. 

Beard,  defy ;  IV.  x.  40. 

Bears;  alluding  to  the  cogni- 
sance of  the  Nevib  of  War- 
wick, a  bear  and  ragged 
staff;  V.  i.  144.  203.  (The 
annexed  engraving  repre- 
sents the  silver  badge  still 
worn  by  the  brethren  of  the 
old  hospital  at  Warwick,) 


'  The  7-ampant  bear  chaijt'd  to  the 
ragged  staff.'' 

Bear-ward,,  hear-leader  (Pope's 
correctt'oTi  of  Folios  i,  2, 
" Berard"  Folios  3,  4, "'  Bear- 
ard")  ;  V.  i.  149. 

Beat  on,  hammer  on,  keep  on 
thinking  about ;  II,  i.  20. 

Bedlam,  a  hospital  for  luna- 
tics;  V.  i.  131. 

Bedlam,  lunatic.  III.  i.  51;  V. 
i.  132. 


129 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Beldam,  term  of  contempt  for 
an  old  woman ;  I.  iv.  44. 

Bcshvezu,  woe  to;  a  mild  form 
of  imprecation ;  III.  i.  184. 

Bested ;  "  worse  b.,"  in  a  worse 
plight;  II.  iii.  56. 

Bestrid,  bestrode,  stood  over 
him  in  posture  of  defence ; 
V.  iii.  9. 

Betime,  in  good  time;  III.  i. 
285. 

Beaonians,  beggars;  IV.  i.  134. 

Bills;  "  take  up  bills,"  get 
goods  on  credit ;  with  a 
quibble  on  (i)  "  bills  "=  hal- 
berds, (2)  "  bills  "=  promis- 
sory notes  ;  IV.  vii.  130. 

Blabbing,  blurting  out  secrets ; 
IV.  i.  I. 

Blood-consuming  sighs,  refer- 
ring to  the  old  idea  that  each 
sigh  drew  a  drop  of  blood 
from  the  heart ;  III.  ii.  61. 

Bona  terra,  mala  gens,  i.e.  "  a 
good  land,  a  bad  people " 
(quoted  by  Lord  Say,  with 
reference  to  Kent)  ;  IV.  vii. 
58. 

Bones;  "  by  these  ten  b.."  i.e. 
by  these  ten  fingers ;  an  old 
form  of  oath;  I.  iii.  191. 

Book,  learning  (Anon.  conj. 
"books")  ;  IV.  vii.  74. 

Boot,  booty;   IV.  i.  13. 

Brave,  defy;  IV.  x.  38. 

Brazen,  strong,  impregnable : 
III.  ii.  89. 

Break  up,  break  open  (Collier 
MS.,  "  break  ope  ")  ;  I.  iv.  21. 

Bristol  (Folios,  "Bristow"): 
III.  i.  328. 


Broker,  agent,  negotiator;  I.  ii. 
100. 

Brook;  "flying  at  the  b.,"  let- 
ting the  falcon  rise  to  pursue 
his  game  ;  II.  i.  i. 

Brook,  endure,  bear  ;  V.  i.  92. 

Brow,  aspect,  appearance 
(Johnson,  "blozv";  Becket, 
"  brozi'se  "  ;  Collier  (Collier 
MS.),  "bloom";  Anon., 
"  gl  0  zv  "  ;  C  a  r  t  w  r  i  g  h  t, 
"  prime  ")  ;  V.  iii.  4. 

Brozvn  bill,  a  kind  of  halberd; 
IV.  X.  14. 

Brush,  hurt,  injury  (Warbur- 
ton.  ''  bruise  ")  ;  V.  iii,  3. 

Bucklers,  shields,  defends;  III. 
ii.  216. 

Buckram,  coarse  linen  stiffened 
with  glue  ;  IV.  vii.  24. 

Bucks,  linen  for  washing;  IV. 
ii.  48. 

Burgonet,  a  close-fitting  hel- 
met ;  V.  i.  200. 


From  a  specimen  in  the  Londesborough 
collection. 


But   that,   only   that   one ;    II.  i. 

99. 

Buss,  whisper  ;  I.  ii.  99. 
By,  according  to ;  111.  i.  243. 


130 


KING  HENRY  VT. 


Glossary 


By  and   by,  immediately;   TI.  i. 

T39- 
By    that,    about    that,    on    that 
subject ;  TI.  i.  i6. 

Cade,  small  barrel ;  IV.  ii.  34. 
Cage,  lock-up  ;  IV.  ii.  52. 
Callet,   a   low    woman    (Dyce's 

emendation  of  Folios,  "  Cal- 

lot");  I.  m.84. 
Calm'd,  becalmed  ;  IV.  ix.  2,2)- 
Cask,  casket  {B^ov^q," casket")  \ 

III.  ii.  409. 

Cease,  to  cause  to  cease;  V.  ii. 

45. 
Censure,  opinion;  I.  iii.  118. 
Censure  ivell,  approve;   III.   i. 

275- 
Chafe,  heat,   warm;   III.  ii.  141. 
Chaps,    jaws,    mouth;     III.     i. 

259- 
Charm,   appease,    make    silent ; 

IV.  i.  64. 

Charneco,  a  kind  of  sweet  wine 
made  at  a  village  near  Lis- 
bon ;  II.  iii.  62,. 

Check' d,  reproved,  rebuked ;  I. 
ii.  54. 

Circuit,  circlet,  diadem ;  III.  i. 
332. 

Circtimstance,  detailed  phrases; 
I.  i.  105. 

Cited,  invited,  urged ;  III.  ii.  281. 

Clapp'd  up,  shut  up ;  I.  iv.  52. 

Clerkly,  scholarly;  III.  i.  179. 

Clime,  country  ;  III.  ii.  84. 

Clip,  embrace,  surround  (Theo- 
bald's correction  of  Folios. 
"Cleape";  Pope,  "Clap")- 
IV.  i.  6. 

Close,  retired,  private  ;  TI.  ii.  3  ; 
secret,   II.  iv.  y2- 


Clouted  shoon,  patched  shoes; 
generally  used  for  hobnailed 
boots  ;  IV.  ii.  186. 

Collect,  gather  bv  observation  ; 
nLi.35. 

Colour,  pretext;   III.  i.  236. 

Commandments ;  "  my  ten  c." 
my  ten  fingers ;  a  cant  phrase 
of  the  time,  still  in  use ;  I. 
iii.  143. 

Commodities,  goods,  merchan- 
dise; IV.  vii.  130. 

Companion,  fellow:  used  con- 
temptuously ;  IV.  X.  T,2,. 

Complot,  plot;   III.  i.  147. 

Concert  (Folios,  "Consort"), 
a  company  of  musicians;  III. 
ii.  327. 

Condition,  rank;  V.  i.  64. 

Conduct,  conductor,  escort ;  II. 
iv.  TGI. 

Conduit;  IV.  vi.  3.  Cp.  illus- 
tration. 


From  La  Serre's  view  of  Clieapsidf 
1639. 


131 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Conjurations,    incantations ;    I. 

ii.  99. 
Controller,  censurer,  detractor, 

perhaps    "  dictator  "  ;    III.   ii. 

205. 
Convenient,  proper,  becoming; 

I.  iv.  8. 
Conventicles,  secret  assemblies; 

III.  i.  166. 

Corrosive,  a  pain-giving  medic- 
ament;  III.  ii.  403. 

Court-hand,  the  manner  of 
writing  used  in  judicial  pro- 
ceedings ;   IV.  ii.  93. 

Courtship,  courtliness  ;  I.  iii.  55. 

Crab-tree,  tree  that  bears  crab- 
apples  ;  III.  ii.  214. 

Cullions, hd.se  wretches  ;I.iii.  41. 

Curst,  shrewish,  sharp ;  III.  ii. 
312. 

Custoin'd,  customary  ;  V.  i.  188. 

Day,  time,  space;  II.  i.  2. 

Dead  as  a  door-nail;  a  prover- 
bial expression  ;  "  the  door- 
nail is  the  nail  on  which,  in 
ancient  doors,  the  knocker 
strikes.  It  is  therefore  used 
as  a  comparison  to  any  one 
irrecoverably  dead,  one  who 
has  fallen  (as  Virgil  says) 
multa  morte,  that  is,  with 
abundant  death,  such  as  iter- 
ation of  strokes  on  the  head 
would    naturallv    produce " ; 

IV.  X.  43. 

Deathful,  deadly;  TIL  ii.  404. 
Deathsjiian,    executioner;     III. 

ii.  217. 
Dedicate,  dedicated;  V.  ii.  37. 
Deep-fet,  deep-fetched;    II.   iv. 

33- 


Demanding  of,  questioning 
about ;  II.  i.  172. 

Demean,  deport,  behave ;  I.  i. 
188. 

Demean' d,  conducted ;  I.  iii. 
104. 

Denay'd,  denied  (Folio  4, 
"  deny'd  ")  ;  I.  iii.  105. 

Depart,  departure  ;  I.  i.  2. 

Discharge,  (?)  payment  (per- 
haps "  giving  up  the  troops 
and  turning  them  over  to 
my  command")  ;  I.  iii.  170. 

Discomfit,  discouragement  (Fo- 
lios, "  discomiiie  "  ;  Capell, 
"  discomfort '')  ;  V.  ii.  86. 

Dispense  zvith,  obtain  dispensa- 
tion from;  V.  i.  181. 

Dispursed,  disbursed  (Folio  4, 
"  disbursed  ")  ;  III.  i.  117. 

Distract,  distracted;  III.  ii.  318. 

Doit,  the  smallest  piece  of 
money;  the  twelfth  part  of  a 
penny;  III.  i.  112. 

Drain,  drop  (Rann,  Capell, 
''  rain  ")  ;  III.  ii.  142. 

Earnest-gaping,  earnestly  riv- 
eted (Anon  conj.  "earnest- 
gazing")  ;  III.  ii.  105. 

Effected,  effectively  proved ; 
III.  i.  170. 

Emblaze,  emblazon,  glorify  be- 
fore the  world ;  IV.  x.  76. 

Emmanuel;  an  allusion  to  the 
fact  that  documents  were  fre- 
quently headed  with  the 
name  {cp.  Kelly's  "  Notices 
of  Leicester,"  pp.  119,  207, 
227)  ;  IV.  ii.  98. 

Empty,  hungry,  famished;  III. 
i.  248. 


132 


KING  HENRY  VI 


Glossary 


Entreat,  treat;  II.  iv.  8i. 
Envious,    spiteful ;    II.    iv.    12 ; 

II.  iv.  35;   "  e.  load,"   load  of 

malice;  III.  i.  157. 
Exorcisms,  charms   for   raising 

spirits  ;  I.  iv.  5. 
Expedient,  expeditious:    III.   i. 

288. 

Fact,  deed  ;  I.  iii.  174. 

Fain  of,  glad  to,  fond  of;  II. 
i.8. 

False-heart,  false-hearted  ;  V.  i. 
143. 

Familiar,  familiar  spirit ;  IV. 
vii.  1 10. 

Faz'our,  lenity  ;  IV.  vii.  69. 

Fearful,  full  of  fear,  III.  i.  331 ; 
timorous,  IV.  iv.  2  ;  cowardly, 
IV.  viii.  44. 

Fee-simple,  lands  held  in  fee- 
simple  ;  IV.  X.  27. 

Fell-lurking,  lurking  to  do  mis- 
chief ;  V.  i.  146. 

Felon   (?)   felony;  III.  i.  132. 

Fence,   skill   in    fencing;    II.    i. 

53. 
Fifteens,  fifteenths;    IV.  vii.  21. 
Fifteenth,  the  fifteenth  part  of 

all  the  personal  property   of 

a  subject ;  I.  i.  133. 
Flazv,    sudden    burst    of    wind, 

gust;   III.  i.  354. 
Flozver-de-luce,  the  emblem  of 

France  (Folios  i,  2,  "  Fleiire- 

de-Luce " ;       Folios      3.       4, 

"  Floure-de  Luce  ")  :    V.  i.  11. 
Fond,  foolish  ;  III.  i.  36. 
Foot-clotJi,   a   kind  of  housing 

for  a  horse,   so  long  that   it 

nearly  swept  the  ground;  IV. 

i-54- 


From  a  XVth  century  illumination  in 
the  Nation:il  Library,  Paris. 

For,  because;  II.  iii.  9;  on  ac- 
count of  (Folios  2,  3.  4. 
"  ivith")  :  IV.  vii.  86. 

Force  perforce,  by  very  force ; 
I.  i.  258. 

Forsooth,  certainly,  in  truth ; 
used  contemptuously;  III.  ii. 
183. 

Forth,  forth  from  (Folios  3,  4. 
"from")  ;   III.  ii.  89. 

Forthcoming,  in  custodv  ;  II.  i. 
176. 

Fretful,  gnawing;  III.  ii.  403. 

From,  away  from  ;  III.  ii.  401. 

Furniture,  equipment ;  I.  iii. 
170. 

Furred  pack,  a  kind  of  knap- 
sack or  wallet  made  of  skin 
with  the  hair  outwards  ;  IV. 
ii.  48. 

Gait,  walking  {¥o\\os" gate")  ; 

III.  i.  373. 
Gallozvglasscs,     heavy  -  armed 
foot   soldiers  of  Ireland  and 
the    Western    Isles;    IV.    iv. 
26. 


133 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Gather   Jirad,  assemble   forces; 

IV.  V.  10. 
Gear,   affair,   business    (Folios, 

"geer"),    I.    iv.    i6;    matter. 

III.  i.  91. 

George,  badge  of  the  Order  of 
the  Garter  ;  IV.  i.  29. 

Ghost,  corpse:  III.  ii.  161. 

Gird,  invest  (Folios  and  Quar- 
tos "girt")  ;  I.  i.  65. 

Gnarling,  snarling;  III.  i.  192. 

Go;  "  let  him  g.,"  i.e.  let  him 
pass  from  your  thoughts ;  II. 
iii.  47. 

Go  about,  attempt ;  II.  i.  143. 

Gobbets,  mouthfuls  ;  IV.  i.  85. 

Gone  out;  "  had  not  gone  out," 
i.e.  "  would  not  have  taken 
flight  at  the  game  "  ;  II.  i.  4. 

Got,  secured  ;  V.  iii.  20. 

Graceless,  impious  ;  IV.  iv.  38. 

Graft,  grafted  ;  III.  ii.  214. 

Groat,  a  small  piece  of  money 
worth  four  pence;  III.  i.  113. 

Hale,  drag  forcibly ;  IV.  i.  131. 
Half -faced  sun,  the  device  on 

the  standard  of  Edward  III. ; 

( Vaughan.      "  pale-faced  ")  ; 

IV.  i.  98. 


From  badges  of  the  House  of  York, 
worn  by  yi)  Richard  II.,  (2)  Edward 
IV.,  (3)  Richard  III.  Figs.  (2)  and 
(3)  show  the  conjunction  of  a  half- 
faced  sun  and  a  white  rose. 


Hammering,   pondering;    I.    ii. 

47- 
Hamper,  fetter,  entangle ;  I.  iii. 

148. 
Hap,  fortune  ;  III.  i.  314. 
Haply,  perchance,  perhaps  ;  III. 

i.  240. 
Happily,   haply,    perhaps    (Fo- 
lios 2,  3,  4,  "  haply")  :  III.  i. 

306. 
Hardly,    with    difficulty ;    with 

play  upon  hardly,  scarcely,  1. 

74    (Theobald,    "hardily")', 

I.  iv.  72,- 
Have,  possess ;  V.  iii.  20. 
Have  at  him,  I  shall  hit  at  him; 

IV.  ii.  120. 
Heavy,  sad,  sorrowful;   III.  ii. 

306. 
Hempen  caudle,  a  slang  phrase 

for     hanging     ("caudle,"     a 

comforting   drink)  ;    IV.   vii. 

91. 
Henry,  trisyllabic;  III.  ii.  131. 
Here,  at  this  point,  IV.  iv.  76 

(Heath.    "  hence  "  ;    Hudson, 

Walker,    "there");    II.    iv. 

79- 
Hinds,  boors,  peasants;  III.  ii. 

271 ;  IV.  ii.  121. 
Hoise,  hoist,  heave  away   (Fo- 
lios,   "  hoyse  "  ;    Quartos, 

"  h  e  a  u  e  "  ',       Theobald. 

"hoist")  ;  Li.  169. 
Horse,    horse's     (Folios    3,    4, 

"  horses  "  \     R  o  w  e    reads 

"horse's";  C  a  p  e  1 1. 

"horse'  ")  ;  IV.  iii.  14. 
Hose  and  doublets;    "in   their 

h.    and    d.,"    i.e.    without    a 

cloak ;  IV.  vii.  53. 


134 


KING  HENRY  VI. 


Glossary 


Household,  family  (Malone's 
correction  (from  Quartos) 
of  Folio  I,  "housed"',  Fo- 
lios 2,  3.  4.  "houses")  ;  V.  i. 
201. 

Housekeeping,  keeping  open 
house,  hospitality;  I.  i.  191. 

Ill-nurtured,  ill-bred  (Folio  4, 
"  ill-natur'd  ")  ;  I.  ii.  42. 

Images  (?)  dissyllabic  (  Walker, 
"  image'  ")  ;  I.  iii.  61. 

Imprimis,  firstly,  in  the  first 
place;  I.  i.  43. 

Impugns,  opposes;  III.  i.  281. 

In,  into;  III.  ii.  287. 

In  eapife,  a  law  term,  signify- 
ing a  tenure  of  the  sovereign 
immediately  as  feudal  lord ; 
used  quibblingly ;  IV.  vii. 
126. 

Inch;  "at  an  i.."  in  the  nick  of 
time  ;  I.  iv.  44. 

Indigested,  formless,  shapeless ; 
V.  i.  157. 

Infortunate,  unfortunate  (Fo- 
lios 3,  4.  "unfortunate"); 
IV.  ix.  18. 

Injurious,  insolent ;  I.  iv.  50. 

Instance,  proof;  III.  ii.  159. 

Invitis  nubibus,  in  spite  of  the 
clouds  (z'ide  "  half-faced 
sun  ")  ;  IV.  i.  99. 

Iris,  goddess  of  the  rainbow 
and  messenger  of  Juno  ;  here, 
messenger;  III.  ii.  407. 

Item,  originally  =  1  i  k  e  w  i  s  e, 
used  in  enumerating;  I.  i.  50. 

laded,  no  better  than  a  jade 
( Capell,  from  Quartos, 
"  jady")  ;  IV.  i.  52. 


lades,  term  of  contempt  or 
pity  for  a  maltreated  or 
worthless  horse ;  applied  to 
the  dragons  of  Night's  char- 
iot;   IV.  i.  3. 

Jar,  discord  ;  IV.  viii.  43. 

Joy,  enjoy  ;  III.  ii.  365. 

i^rw, descry,  discern  ;  III.  ii.    loi. 
Kennel,  gutter;  IV.  i.  71. 
Kernes,    Irish    soldiers ;    III.    i. 

310. 
Killingworth,   an   old    form    of 

Kenilworth  ;   IV.  iv.  39. 

Laid,  beset,  laid  with  traps ;  IV. 

X.  4. 
Laugh,  smile ;  "  the  world  miy 

I.  again,"    i.e.    fortune    may 
smile  on  me  again;  II.  iv.  82. 

Lay,  stake,  wager   (Folios  3,  4. 

"  day  ")  ;  V.  ii.  27. 
Leave,,  leave   off,   desist ;    II.   i. 

179;  ni.  ii.  2>2>2>- 
Lesser,  smaller  ;  IV.  x.  50. 
Lezvdly,  wickedly;  II.  i.   164. 
Liefest,  dearest ;  III.  i.  164. 
Light,  alight,  descend;  I.  iii.  91. 
Like;   "an   it   1.."   if  it   please; 

II.  i.  9. 

Limed,  smeared  with  bird- 
lime; I.  iii.  89. 

Lime-twigs,  twigs  smeared 
with  lime  for  catching  birds ; 

III.  iii.  t6. 

Listen   after,   gain   information 

about ;  I.  iii.  150. 
Lived,  would  live  ;  II.  ii.  399. 
Lizards'  stings,  alluding  to  the 

old    l)elief   that   lizards    have 

stings,  which  they  have  not ; 

III.  ii.  325. 


13; 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Loather,  more  unwilling;  III, 
ii-  355. 

Lodged,  beat  down ;  technical 
term  for  the  beating  down 
of  grain  by  violent  weather ; 
III.  ii.  176. 

London-stone,  an  ancient  land- 
mark, still  carefully  pre- 
served in  Cannon  Street. 
London  ;  IV.  vi.  2. 


From  Aggas's  Map  of^  London,  pre- 
beivedia  C/Ui.dhall. 


Lordiugs,  lords  ;  I.  i.  145. 

Madding,  growing  mad  with 
love;   III.  ii.  117. 

Mail'd  np  in  shame,  "  wrapped 
up  in  disgrace  "  ;  alluding  to 
the  " sheet  of  penance  " 
(Johnson)  ;  II.  iv.  31. 

Alain,  chief  point;  used  with 
play  upon  "  Maine "  and 
"  niain  force  "  ;  I.  i.  209. 

Mained,  maimed  (Folio  4. 
"  maim'd")  ;  IV.  ii.  163. 

Make,  draw  up  ;  IV.  ii.  93. 

Make  shift,  contrive;   IV.  viii. 33. 

Mandrake,  "  a  plant  the  root  of 
which  was  supposed  to  re- 
semble the  human  figure ;  it 
was    said    to    cause    madness 


and  even  death  when  torn 
from  the  ground " ;  III.  ii. 
310.  (Illustration  in  2  Henry 
IV.) 

Mass,  by  the  mass ;  an  assev- 
eration ;  II.  i.  loi. 

Mates,  checkmates,  confounds, 
disables  ;   III.  i.  265. 

Mechanical,  mechanic ;  I.  iii. 
194. 

Meetest,  most  suitable ;  I.  iii. 
161. 

Mercy ;  "  I  cry  you  m.,"  I  beg 
your  pardon;  I.  iii.  140. 

Mickle,  much,  great  (Folio  2, 
"  milckie " ;  Folios  3.  4, 
"milky")',  V.i.  174- 

Middest,  midst  (Folio  4. 
"midst")  ;  IV.  viii.  64. 

Minion,  pert,  saucy  person  ;  I. 
iii.  139. 

Minister,  instrument;  III.  i. 
355- 

Miscarry,  perish  ;  IV.  viii.  49. 

Misdoubt,  diffidence;  III.  i.  332. 

Monuments,  memorials,  me- 
mentos ;  III.  ii.  342. 

Morisco,  morris-dancer;  III.  i. 
365. 

Mortal,  deadly,  fatal;  III.  ii. 
263. 

Mounsieiir,  Monsieur;  IV.  vii. 
28. 

Mournful,  mourning,  express- 
ing sorrow  ;  III.  i.  226. 

Muse,  wonder;  III.  i.  i. 

Naughtw    bad,    wicked ;    II.    1. 

164. 
Next;  "the  n.,"  what  follows; 

in.  i.  383. 


136 


KING  HENRY  VI. 


Glossary 


Ni^Ii,  well-nigh,  nearly;  III.  ii. 

82. 
Nominate,  name  ;  II.  i.  129. 
Notice,       information       (conj. 

"  note")  ;  III.  i.  166. 
Numbers;  "  factious  n.."  bands 

of    factious    retainers ;    II.    i. 

40. 

Obligations,   contracts;    IV.    ii. 

93. 

Obsequies,  shows  of  love;  III. 
ii.  146. 

O'eriveening,  overbearing,  pre- 
sumptuous; V.  i.  151. 

Omitting,  leaving  unregarded; 
III.  ii.  382. 

Opposites,  adversaries ;  V.  iii. 
22. 

Order;  "  take  o.,"  make  ar- 
rangements, III.  i.  320;  man- 
ner, III.  ii.   129. 

Out,  given  out,  i.e.  given  up 
(Walker,  "over";  Cart- 
wright,  "  up  ")  ;  IV.  viii.  27. 

Over-bloivn,  blown  over,  dis- 
pelled ;  I.  iii.  153. 

Packing,  "  send  me  p.."  send 
me  away  ;  III.  i.  342. 

Pageant    (trisyllabic);    I.  ii.  67. 

Palmer's,  pilgrim's  ;  V.  i.  97. 

Palsy,  paralysis  ;  IV.  vii.  98. 

Paly,  pale;  III.  ii.  141. 

Part,  party  ;  V.  ii.  35. 

Particularities,  single  or  pri- 
vate respects  (opposed  to 
"general  "  in  previous  line)  ; 
V.  ii.  44. 

Pass,  care,  regard;  IV.  ii.  136. 

Pen  and  ink  horn;  IV.  ii.  108. 
Cp.  illustration. 


From  an  effigy  in  Ellesmere  Church, 
Salop. 

Period,  end,  stop  ;  III.  i.  149. 
Perish,  cause  to  perish;  III.  ii. 

100. 
Pinnace,    a    small    two-masted 

vessel ;  IV.  i.  9. 
Pitch,   the    height    to    which    a 

falcon  soars  ;  II.  i.  6. 
Plainness,  frankness,  sincerity ; 

I.  i.  loi. 
Plot,  plot  of  ground,  spot;   II. 

ii.  60. 
Pointing-stock,     object     to     be 

pointed  at,  butt ;  II.  iv.  46. 
Pole,  pronounced  Poole;  IV.  i. 

70. 
Porpentine,   porcupine    (Rowe, 

"  porcupine  ")  ;   III.  i.  363. 
Port,  deportment,  carriage  ;  IV. 

i.  19. 
Posted  over,  slurred  over;  III. 

i.255. 

Pot;  "three-hooped  p.."  a 
wooden  drinking  -  vessel 
bound  with  hoops  ;  IV.  ii.  66. 

Pozver,  armed  force;  IV.  iv.  40. 

Practice,  plotting;  III.  ii.  22. 

Practised,  plotted;  II.  i.  t68. 


137 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Premised,  sent  before  the  time: 

(Delius,  "'promised'')  ;  V.  ii. 

41. 
'Prentice,  apprentice;  I.  iii.  199. 
Presence,    Cade's    blunder    for 

"  presents  "  ;  IV.  vii.  29. 
Present,  immediate;  V.  iii.  25. 
Presently,    immediatel}'^ ;     I.    i. 

171 ;  III.  ii.  18. 
Pretty-vaulting,  bounding  in  a 

pleasant      manner       (Folios. 

"pretty    vaulting");    III.    ii. 

94. 
Priest,  father-confessor ;  III.  i. 

Private,  retired ;  II.  ii.  60. 
Procurator,   substitute,    proxy ; 

I.i.3. 

Proof ;  "  his  coat  is  of  p.,''  used 
with  a  quibble  on  the  two 
senses  of  "proof,"  (i)  able 
to  resist.  (2)  well-worn, 
long  worn  ;  IV.  ii.  60. 

Proper,  handsome  ;  IV.  ii.  94. 

Proportion,  shape,  form;  I.  iii. 

55. 
Puissant   (dissyllabic)  ;  IV.  ix. 

25. 
Pursuivant,    a    lower    rank    of 
herald,  a  state  messenger ;  T. 

iii.  35- 
Puttock's.  kite's;  III.  ii.  191. 

Quaint,  fine  ;  III.  ii.  274. 

Quill;  "in  the  q.."  z'ide  Note; 

I.  iii.  3. 
Quillets,  subtleties,  sly  tricks  in 

argument ;  III.  i.  261. 
Quire,  choir  ;  I.  iii.  90. 
Quitting,  freeing;  III.  ii.  218. 

Rack'd,  harassed  by  exactions ; 
I.  iii.  129. 


Ras;^ed,  rugged,  rough;  III.  ii. 

98. 
Rascal,  rascally;  II.  iv.  47. 
Rauglit,     having    been     gained 

(lit.       '*  reached " ;        Capell. 

"  wrenched";      others  = 

"reft");  II.  iii.  43. 
Razing,   erasing,    blotting   out ; 

I.  i.  loi. 
Rear,  raise  ;  III.  ii.  34. 
Reave,  deprive  ;  V.  i.  187. 
Relent,   yield,    comply    (Collier 

MS.,  "repent")  ;  IV.  viii.  11. 
Remorse,  pit)%  compassion  ;  IV. 

vii.  107. 
Remorseful,        compassionate ; 

IV.  i.  I. 
Repairing;  "  of  such  r.  nature," 

i.e.   so  able  to   recover  from 

defeat ;  V.  iii.  22. 
Repeal,     recall     from     banish- 
ment ;  III.  ii.  349. 
Reprove,  disprove,  refute ;  III. 

i.  40. 
Reputing  0/, boasting  of  (Rowe. 

''  by  repeating  ")  ;  III.  i.  48. 
Respecting,  considering;  III.  i. 

24. 
Revenues;  I.  iii.  81. 
Reverent,  humble ;  III.  i.  34. 
Revolt,  turn  back  (Anon.  conj. 

"repent")  ;  IV.  ii.  124. 
Right  nozv,  just  now  ;  III.  ii.  40. 
Roast;    "  rule    the    r.,"    Pope's 

emendation  of  Folios  "  rost,'' 

Quartos,      "  roast " ;       Grant 

White.    "  roost  "  ;    according 

to  some  the  phrase  originally 

meant  "  to  rule  the  roost."  i.e. 

the  "  hen-roost  "  ;  1. 1.  109. 
Rude,  rough,  ill-mannered ;  III. 

ii-  135- 


138 


KING  HENRY  VI. 


Glossary 


Ruder,  more  unrefined;  I.  i.  30. 

Sack,  generic  name  for  Spanish 
and  Canary  wine;  II.  iii. 
60. 

Saint  Magnus'  corner;  IV. 
viii.  I. 


From  Aggas's  Map  of  London,  pre- 
served in  Guildhall. 

Sallet,  salad.  IV.  x.  9;  a  kind 
of  helmet,  with  a  play  upon 
the  two  senses  of  the  word; 
IV.x.  II. 


From  an  illumination  of  the  XVth 
century. 

San  it  a  Ma  jest  as,  sacred  ma- 
jesty (Pope,  "majesty"  \ 
Capell,  from  Quartos,  "  santa 
maestd")  ;  V.  i.  5. 


Savoy,  the  Palace  of  the  Duke 
of  Lancaster;  destroyed  hy 
the  rebels  under  Wat  Tyler, 
and  not  rebuilt  till  the  reign 
of  Henry  VII.;  IV.vii.2. 


From  Aggas's  Maf  of  London,  pre- 
served in  Guildhall. 


Saws,  maxims,  moral  sayings; 

I.  iii.  59. 
Say,  a  kind  of  satin  ;  IV.  vii.  24. 
Scathe,  injury  ;  II.  iv.  62. 
Score,  a  notch  made  on  a  tally ; 

IV.  vii.  35- 
Seemeth;  "me  s.,"  it  seems  to 

me;  III.  i.  23. 
Shearman,    one    who    uses    the 

tailor's  shears;   IV.  ii.  132. 
Shrewd,  bad.  evil;  II.  iii.  41. 
Sicil,  Sicily  ;  I.  i.  6. 
Silent;   "  the   s.  of  the  night " 

(Collier  MS.,  from  Quartos, 

"silence")  ;  I.  iv.  18. 
Silly,  poor   (used  as  a  term  of 

pity,  not  of  contempt)  ;  I.  i. 

225. 
Since,  when  ;  III.  i.  9. 
Sir,  a  common  title  of  priests; 

I.  ii.  68. 
Skills,  matters:  III.  i.  281. 
Slough,  the    skin   of  a    snake; 

III.  i.  229. 
Smart,  painful;  III.  ii.  325. 


139 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Smooth,  bland,  insinuative;  III. 
i.65. 

Smoothing,   flattering;   I.  i.  156. 

Smooth'st,  flatterest ;  II.  i.  22. 

So,  if  only ;  V.  i.  53. 

Soft,  hush,  stop;  II.  iv.  15. 

Somethne,  sometimes ;  II.  iv. 
42. 

Sophister,  captious  reasoner ; 
V.  i.  191. 

Sort,  company,  set,  II,  i.  164; 
III.  ii.  277. 

Sort,  adapt,  make  conformable, 

•  II.  iv.  68;  let  it  fall  out,  I. 
ii.  107. 

Sour,  bitter  ;  III.  ii.  301. 

Span-counter,  a  game  "  in 
which  one  player  throws  a 
counter,  which  the  other 
wins,  if  he  can  throw  an- 
other to  hit  it,  or  lie  within 
a  span  of  it"  (Nares)  ;  IV. 
ii.  157. 

Spleenful,  hot,  eager;  III.  ii. 
128. 

Splitting,  wont  to  split  the 
sides  of  vessels  ;  III.  ii.  97. 

Spoil,  despoil,  plunder;  IV.  iv. 

53. 

Sprays,  shoots,  twigs  ;    II.  iii.  45. 

Starved,  benumbed  with  cold; 
HI.  i.  343- 

State,  estate  ;  IV.  x.  24. 

Stays,  ceases,  ends ;  II.  iv.  76. 

Stigmatic,  one  branded  by  na- 
ture with  deformity;  V.  i. 
215. 

Still,  continually;  III.  i.  239. 

Stomachs,  angry  tempers;  II. 
i.56. 

Strait,  strict  (Folio  4, 
"strange")  ;  III.  ii.  258. 


Straiter,  more  severely ;  III.  ii. 
20. 

Stray,  vagrant ;  IV.  x.  27. 

Strength,  army  ;  III.  i.  380. 

Style;  "large  style";  high- 
sounding  list  of  titles ;  I.  i. 
III. 

Subornation,  abetting,  inciting; 
III.  i.  45.    . 

Subscribe,  yield  the  point;  III. 
i.38. 

Suddenly,  immediately,  at  once; 
II.ii.67. 

Suffer'd,  allowed  to  have  his 
way;  V.  i.  153. 

SuMceth,  it  sufficeth ;  IV.  x.  24. 

Suifocate,  suffocated  (with  a 
quibble  upon  "Suffolk")  ;  I. 
i.  124. 

Suspect,  suspicion  (Folios, 
"suspence";  Rowe.  "suspi- 
cion"; Malone  (Steevens), 
"  suspects")  ;  III.  i.  40. 

Szvallozving;  "  for  s.,"  that  it 
may  not  swallow  (Folios  3,  4, 
''  szvallou'ing  up  ")  ;  IV.  i.  74. 

Szvorder,  gladiator  ;  IV.  i.  135. 

Sylla;  Sulla,  the  rival  of  Ma- 
rius  ;  IV.  i.  84. 

Tainture,  defilement ;  II.  i.  185. 

Take  my  death,  take  it  upon 
my  death  ;  an  oath  ;  II.  iii.  89. 

Tally,  a  stick  on  which  notches 
or  scores  were  cut  to  keep 
accounts  by  ;  IV.  vii.  35. 

Temper,  moisten,   wet;    III.   i. 

311. 
Tend,  attend,  wait  on;  III.  ii. 

304. 
Tender,  have  care  for;   III.   i. 
277. 


140 


KING  HENRY  VI. 


Glossary 


That,  would  that;  I.  iv.  30;  so 

that,   III.  i.  12. 
Thorough,  through  ;  IV.  i.  87. 
Threatesf,    threatenest    (FoHos 

3,  4,  "  threaten' St  ")  ;  I.  iv.  50. 
Tickle,  tickhsh.   unstable ;   I.   i. 

216. 
Tickled,  vexed,  irritated;  I.  iii. 

151. 

Timeless,  imtimely  ;  III.  ii.  187. 

Timely-farted,  having  died  a 
natural  death;  III.  ii.  161. 

To,  compared  to ;  III.  i.  64. 

Tozvards,  monosyllabic ;  III.  ii. 
90. 

Tozuer,  soar,  fly  high ;  II.  i.  10. 

Treasury,  treasure;  I.  iii.  132. 

Trencher,  plate  ;  IV.  i.  57. 

Trozv'st,  thinkest ;  II.  iv.  38. 

Tully,  Cicero ;  IV.  i.  136. 

Tumble  dozvn,  make  to  fall ;  I. 
ii.  48. 

Tzi'it,  twitted;  III.  i.  178. 

Tzvo-hand  szvord,  sword  wield- 
ed with  two  hands  ;  II.  i.  46. 

Uncivil,     ill-mannered,      rude; 

III.  i.  310. 
Unciirable,  incurable   (Folios  3, 

4,  "  incurable  ")  ;  III.  i.  286. 
Uneath,  not  easily;  II.  iv.  8. 
Unmeet,  unsuitable ;  I.  iii.  167. 
Untiitord,  untaught,  rude;  III. 

ii.213. 

Vantages,  advantages;   I.  i.  131. 

Verge,  compass,  circle  ;    I.  iv.  24. 

Villiago,  base  coward  (Theo- 
bald reads  "  Villagcois ''  ; 
Capell,  "  Viliaco  " ;  a  corrup- 
tion of  Italian  Vigliacco,  ras- 
cal;  IV.  viii.  48, 


Void,  devoid;  IV.  vii.  66. 
Voiding   lobby,   a  n  t  e  -  r  o  o  m, 
waiting  room;  IV.  i.  61. 

Waft,  carry,  bear;  IV.  i.  114. 

Jl^alter,  pronounced  "water"; 
IV.i.31. 

Waning,  decline,  loss  (Rowe, 
"zvaining";  Folios,  "  zvarn- 
ing  ")  ;    IV.  x.;22. 

JVard,  custody,  confinement; 
V.  i.  112. 

Jl^ell  given,  well-disposed;  III. 
i.  72. 

What,  who;  III.  i.  107;  what- 
ever, III.  i.   132. 

IVJiere,  whereas ;  III.  ii.  394. 

Whether,  monosyllabic  (Fo- 
lios, "zvhere");   III.  ii.  265. 

White  Hart,  probably  a  tavern 
in  Southwark ;  used  with  a 
quibble  on  white-heart  == 
cowardly  (Folios  i,  2,  3, 
"  zvhitc-heart ")  ;  IV.  viii.  25. 

Wlio,  whom;  III.  ii.  127;  he 
who ;  IV.  viii.  14. 

Whom,  which;  III.  ii.  345. 

JVink,  shut  your  eyes;  II.  i. 
105. 

JVitch,  bewitch  (Theobald's 
correction  of  Folios. 
"  zvatch")  ;  III.  ii.   116. 

JVith;  "I  am  with  you,"  I'll 
be  there,  I  understand;  II.  i. 
49. 

Woe,  woful ;  "be  w.  for  me," 
be  sorrowful,  feel  sorrow, 
for  me ;  III.  ii.  73. 

JJ'orm,  snake,  serpent ;  III.  ii. 
263. 

Worn,  effaced  from  memory; 
II.  iv.  69. 


141 


Glossary 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Worthy,  worthy  of;  III.  i.  68. 
Would,    requires,    desires;    II. 

iii.  21. 
Wreck,        ruin        (Folios, 

"  IV rack  ")  ;   I.  iii.   125. 
Wrest,  misinterpret ;  III.  i.  186. 


Wrested,      took 
III.  i.   112. 


wrongfully 


Y-clad,  clad;  I.  i.  2>2>' 
Yet,    still,    even    then;    II.    iv 
65. 


?43 


KING  HENRY  VI. 


Critical  Notes. 

BY   ISRAEL   GOLLANCZ. 

1.  i.  I.  'As  by  your  high'  etc.;  'The  Contention'  reads: — 'As 
by  your  high  imperial  majesty's  command.' 

I.  i.  7.  'and';  the  reading  of  Folio  i ;  Folios  2,  3,  4  omit  it. 

I.  i.  19.  'lends';  Rowe,  '  lend'st.' 

T.  i.  50.  'duchy  of  Anjou  and  the  county  of  Maine';  changed 
by  Capell  from  Quartos  to  '  dutchies  of  Anjou  and  Maine.' 

I.  i.  63.  'kneel  down';  Pope  reads  'kneel  you  down';  Keight- 
ley,  Collier  MS.,  '  kneel  thee  down.'  Perhaps  '  kneel '  is  to  be  read 
as  a  dissyllable. 

I.  i.  88.  '  Beaufort ' ;  Folios  read  '  Beauford  ' ;  Rowe,  '  Bedford.' 

I.  ,i.  93.  'And  had  his  highness  in  his  infancy  Crowned' ;  Grant 
White's  emendation  of  Folios,  'And  hath  .  .  .  Crowned'; 
Rowe  reads,  'And  was  .  .  .  Crowned ' ;  Capell,  '  Or  hath 
.  .  .  Been  crown'd';  Malone,  'And  hath  .  .  .  Been 
croivn'd.' 

I.  i.  102.  'Defacing' ;  Capell  reads.  'Reversing,'  following'  The 
Contention.' 

I.  i.  247.  'humours  fits';  so  Folios,  Quartos;  Rowe  reads 
'humour  fits';  Malone,  'humours  fit.' 

I.  ii.  22.  'My  troublous  dream  this  night  doth  make  me  sad'; 
Capell's  emendation  of  Folios,  '  My  troublous  dreames  .  .  . 
doth,'  etc. 

I.  ii.  38.  'And  in  that  chair  where  kings  and  queens  are 
crown'd';  'are',  Hanmer's  correction  from  Quartos;  Folios  i, 
2,  read,  '  wer ' ;  Folios  3,  4.  '  zvere.' 

I.  ii.  59.  '  thou  wilt  ride  with  us ' ;  Dyce,  from  Quartos,  '  thou  'It 
ride  zuith  us,  I  'm  sure ' ;  Hanmer,  '  thou  too  wilt  ride  with  us ' ; 
Vaughan,   'thou;    thou  wilt  ride  with  us.' 

I.  ii.  71.  'What  say'st  thou?  majesty! ' ;  Capell  reads  from 
Quartos,  'My  majesty!  why  man';  Vaughan,  'What  say'st 
thou,  "  Majesty  "? '  etc. 

I.  ii.  TOO.  'A  crafty  knave  does  need  no  broker';  an  old  prov- 
erb given  in  Ray's  collection. 

143 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

I.  iii.  3.  'In  the  quill':  Hanmer,  'in  quill';  Jackson,  'in 
quiet';  Singer,  'in  the  coil';  Collier  MS.,  'in  sequel,'  etc.  In 
Ainsworth's  Latin  Dictionary,  1761,  the  phrase  is  rendered,  '  ex 
cowpacto  agnnt.'  Halliwell  and  others  explain  it  also  as  'all 
together  in  a  bod3\'  This  interpretation  is  borne  out  by  a  pas- 
sage in  '  The  Devonshire  Damsel's  Frolic '  one  of  the  '  Songs  and 
Sonnets  in  the  collection  called  '  Choyce  Drollery,'  etc.  (1656)  : — 

"  Thus  those  females  zvere  all  in  a  quill 
And  follozfing   on   their  pastimes  still." 

No  satisfactory  explanation  has  yet  been  given  of  the  origin  of  the 
phrase.  The  following  solution  is  suggested: — 'the  quill'  I  take 
to  be  a  popular  elaboration  of  the  more  correct  phrase  '  a  quill/ 
vvhich  occurs  in  the  ballad  quoted ;  the  latter  seems  to  be  a  cor- 
ruption of  French  accueil,  O.F.  acueil,  acoil,  akel,  achoil,  etc.,  '  a 
gathering"  together.'  It  is  noteworthy  that  a  verb  '  aquyle  '  oc- 
curs in  one  passage  in  Middle  English,  where  in  all  probability, 
it  is  the  English  form  of  the  verb  '  aecuelillir.'  (Cp.  Pearl,  ed. 
Gollancz,  p.  122.) 

I.  iii.  31.  'master  zvas';  Warburton's  emendation  of  Folios, 
'  mistress  was.' 

I.  iii.  69.  '  haughty ' ;  probably  an  error  for  '  liaught,'  the  read- 
ing of  Folios  2,  3,  4;    Pope,  'proud.' 

I.  iii.  91.  '  to  the  lays' ;   Rowe.  '  their  lays.' 

I.  iii.  147.  'most  master  zcear';  'master'  Halliwell,  'masters'; 
'  zvcar,'  so  Folio  i;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  '  zvears,'  'most  master'  ^^^  ihe. 
one  who  is  most  master,'  i.e.  *  the  queen.' 

I.  iii.  151.  'fume  needs';  Grant  Wlfite  (Dyce  and  Walker 
conj.)  'fury,'  which  seems  a  most  plausible  emendation;  'needs/ 
the  reading  of  Folio  i ;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  '  can  need ' ;  Keightley, 
'  needs  nozju/ 

I.  iii.  152.  '  far  ' ;    Pope  reads  '  fast/  adopted  by  many  editors. 

I.  iii.  206.  '  TJiis  doom,  my  lord,  if  I  may  judge  ';  Capell  reads 
*  This  do,  my  lord,  if  I  may  be  the  judge' ;  Dyce  from  Quartos, 
'  This  is  my  doom,  my  lord,  if  I  may  judge  ';  Vaughan  conjectured 
'  This  doom,  my  lord,  if  I  may  judge,  is  lazju' ;  Collier  MS.,  '  This 
doom,  my  gracious  lord,  if  I  may  judge/ 

I.  iii.  216.  'the  spite  of  man';  Capell  reads  'the  sight  of  my 
master';  Folios  2,  3,  read  '  the  spite  of  my  man';  Folio  4,  'the 
spite  of  my  master';  Collier  MS.,  'the  spite  of  this  man'; 
Steevens,  '  the  spite  of  a  man  ' :  ^/aughan  conj.  '  the  spite  of  many/ 

144 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

L  iv.  34.  '  IVIiat  fates  azcait  ' ;  so  Folios;  Pope  reads,  '  Tell  me 
Zi'hat  fates  await';  Capell,  '  What  fate  awaits';  Vaughan,  '  What 
fates  awaiteth  them  ' ;  Wordsworth,  '  Tell  me  what  fate  awaits.' 

I.  iv.  44.  'we  watch' d  yoii  at  an  inch';  Daniel,  'zve've  catch'd 
in  the  nick,'  or  'at  the  nick.' 

I.  iv.  64.  ' Aio  te,  JBacida,  Romanos  vinccre  posse';  the  am- 
higiious  answer  which  Pyrrhns  received  from  the  oracle  at  Delphi 
before  his  war  against  the  Romans ;  meaning  either  '  I  say  that 
thou,  the  descendant  of  ^^acus,  mayest  conquer  the  Romans,'  or, 
'  I  say  that  the  Romans  may  conquer  thee,  descendant  of  y^Lacus  ' ; 
'be'  inserted  by  Warburton ;  Folios  i,  2,  read,  'JEacida';  Folios, 
3,  4,  'jEacide  ' ;  Rowe,  '  te  JEacidem.' 

II.  i.  24.  '  Tantccne  aniniis  coelcstihus  ircrf  '  Is  such  resentment 
found  in  heavenly  minds?'  (^neid,  i.  15.)    Omitted  by  Pope. 

II.  i.  26.  '  PVith  such  holiness  can  you  do  it ' ;  omitted  by  Pope. 
Warburton,  'With  such  holiness  can  you  not  do  it?';  Johnson, 
'A  churchman,  zvith  such,'  etc.;  Collier  MS.,  'And  ivith  such 
holiness  you  well  can  do  it';  the  old  play  'dote'  for  'do  it.' 
Many  emendations  have  been  proposed.  If  the  original  reading  is 
retained,  it  must  be  considered  ironical. 

II.  i.  29.  'you';  Pope,  'yourself.' 

II.  i.  34.  'furious';  Folio  2,  '  too-too  furious.' 

II.  i.  47.  11.  47  to  49,  given  in  Folios  to  Glostcr ;  corrected  by 
Theobald. 

II.  i.  54.  '  Medicc,  tcipsmn — ';  "Physician,  heal  thyself;  from 
the  Vulgate  (Luke  iv.  22,).  Folios  read  '  Medice  tcipsum';  Rowe, 
'  Medice  cura  tcipsum '  etc. ;  omitted  by  Pope. 

II.  i.  69.  'To  present  your  highness  with  the  man';  Pope 
reads,  'Before  your  highness  to  present  the  man  ' ;  Capell,  '  Come 
to  present  your  highness  zcith  the  man,'  etc. 

II.  i.  91.  '  Simpcox' ;  Pope's  emendation  (Theobold  conj.)  of 
Folios  '  Symon' ;  Capell,  'Sounder.' 

II.  i.  135.  'things  called  zvhips';  Halliwell  and  others  quote 
from  Armin's  Nest  of  Ninnies  (1608);  'There  are,  as  Hamlet 
sales,  things  cald  zchips  in  store';  this  cannot  refer,  as  has  been 
supposed,  to  Hamlet's  'zchips  and  scorns  of  time,'  but  may  well 
have  occurred  in  the  pre-Shakespearian  Hamlet.  The  actual 
words  are  to  be  found  in  Kyd's  Spanish  Tragedy: — 

"  Well  heaven  is  heaven  stiil ! 
And  there  is  Nemesis,  and  furies, 
And  things  call'd  whips." 

145 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Perhaps  Armin  wrote  '  Hamlet '  when  he  meant  '  Jeronimy.' 

II.  i.  i8o.  '  vanquish' d ' ;  Walker,  '  languish' d  ' ;  Vaughan, 
'  banish'd.' 

II.  li.  6.  'at  full';  Folios  3.  4,  'thus  at  full';  Capell.  'at  the 
full ' :  Keightle.v.  '  at  full  length  ' ;  Marshall,  '  told  at  full.' 

II.  ii.  15.  'Edmund' ;  Folio  i  reads,  '  Edmond' ;  Folios  2,  3.  4, 
'  Edward.' 

II.  ii.  27.  'Richard  zcas  murder  d  traitorously' ;  Folio  i  reads 
'  Richard     .     .     .     traiterously  ' ;    Folios   2,   3.   4,   '  King   Richard 

.  .  .  traiterously ' ;  Pope,  '  King  Richard  trait'rously  was 
murtlier'd' ;  D\Te,  '  zcas  liaruiless  Richard  murdered  traitorously.' 

II.  ii.  28.  '  told  tlie  truth  ' ;  Hanmer  reads  '  told  the  very  truth  ' ; 
Capell,  'surely  told  the  truth';  Keightley,  'told  the  truth  in 
this':  Marshall,  'the  Duke  of  York  hath  told  the  truth.' 

II.  ii.  35.  '  Philip  t^e'  Hanmer's  correction:  Folio  i,  'Philip'; 
Folios  2,  3,  4.  'Philip';  Collier  MS.,  '  Philippa.' 

II.  ii.  42.  '  WJio  kept  him  in  captivity  till  he  died';  "it  was 
really  his  son-in-law.  Lord  Grey  of  Ruthvyn.  and  not  Edmund 
Mortimer,  whom,  according  to  Hall,  Owen  Glendower  kept  in 
captivity  till  he  died"  (Malone). 

II.  ii.  55.  'York  claims';  Pope,  'York  here  claims';  Capell. 
'hut  York  claims';  Dyce,  '  zchilc  York  claims';  Hudson,  'York 
doth  claim.' 

II.  iii.  3.  'sins':  Theobald's  emendation  of  '  sinnc;  Folios  i,  2; 
'  sin  *  Folio  3. 

II.  iii.  14.  '  ]]'elcome  is  banishment;  welcome  were  my  death'; 
Pope  reads  '  Welcome  is  exile,'  etc. ;  Anon,  conjecture,  '  JVelcome 
is  banishment;  welcomcr  my  death';  Wordsworth.  '  Welcome  is 
banishment:  welcome  were  death':  '  banishment '-'is  probably  to 
be  considered  a  dissyllable. 

II.  iii.  20.  '  /  beseech  ' ;  Hanmer.  '  Beseech.' 

II.  iii.  21.  'ease,'  the  reading  of  Folios  i.  4;  Folios  2,  3. 
'  cease.' 

II.  iii.  29.  'Should  be  to  be  protected  like  a  child':  Collier  MS. 
reads  'Should  be  protected  like  a  child  by  peers.'  'Should  be  to 
be'  ="'  should  need  to  be.' 

II.  iii.  30.  'God  and  King  Henry  govern  England's  realm'; 
omitted  by  Capell ;  '  Realm,'  the  reading  of  Folios ;  Steevens 
(Johnson  conj.),  'helm';  Dyce  and  Staunton,  'helm!'  In  the 
next  line  Keightley  proposed  '  helm  '  for  '  realm.' 

II.  iii.  2,2.  Collier  MS.  inserts  after  1.  Z^,  '  To  think  I  fain 
would  keep  it  makes  me  laugh.' 

146 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

IT.  iii.  35.  'willingly' ;   Pope,  'willing'    Jrom  Quartos). 

II.  iii.  46.  'youngest,'  so  Folios  i,  2;  Folios  3.  4,  'younger'; 
Singer  (Anon  conj.  MS.),  'strongest';  Collier  MS.,  'proudest'; 
Staunton,  'haughtiest' ;  Kinnear,  'highest.'  Perhaps  'her'  may 
be  taken  to  refer  to  '  pride.' 

II.  iii.  55.  'defend';  Pope,  'guard';  Vaughan,  'fend.' 

II.  iii.  92.  'blow';  Warburton  adds,  from  Quartos,  'as  Bevis 
of  Southampton  fell  upon  Ascapart.' 

II.  iii.  100.  'Go,  take  hence  that  traitor  from  our  sight';  Han- 
mer,  'Go,  and  take  hence,'  etc.;  perhaps  'traitor'  should  be  read 
as  a  trisyllable. 

II.  iv.  3.  'Barren  winter,  zvith  his  wrathful  nipping  cold'; 
Pope,  '  The  barren  zvinter,  with  his  nipping  cold';  Capell,  'Bare 
winter  with  his  wrathful  nipping  cold';  Mitford,  'The  barren 
winter  zvith  his  wrathful  cold.' 

II.  iv.  5.  'ten';  Steevens,  ' 'Tis  ten  o'clock';  Lettsom,  from 
Quartos,  ''Tis  almost  ten.' 

II.  iv.  12.  'laughing' ;  so  Folios  i;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  'still  laugh- 
ing'; Hudson    (Lettsom  conj.)    'and  laughing.' 

II.  iv.  25.  'thine  enemies';  Folio  4,  'their  enemies';  Rowe, 
'  our  enemies.' 

II.  iv.  31.  'with  papers  on  my  back';  "criminals  undergoing 
punishment  usually  wore  papers  on  their  backs  containing  their 
offence." 

II.  iv.  87.  'gone  toof;  so  Folios  2,  3,  4;  Folio  i,  'gone  tof 
Collier  MS.,  'gone  so?' 

III.  I.  78.  'as  is  the  ravenous  zvolf;  Rowe's  correction  of 
Folios,  '  as  is  .  .  .  Wolues';  Malone,  'as  are  .  .  . 
zvolves';  Vaughan,  'as  the  ravenous  zvolves.' 

III.  i.  98.  '  Well,  Suffolk,  thou  shall  not  see  me  blush  ' ;  the 
reading  of  Folio  i;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  '  JVell,  Suffolk,  yet  thou,'  etc.  ; 
Malone,  from  Quartos,  '  JVell,  Suffolk's  duke,  thou,'  etc. ;  Dyce 
(Walker  conj.),  '  Well,  Suffolk,  zvell,  thou,'  etc. 

III.  i.  133.  '  easy' ;    Cc 
omitted  by  Wordsworth. 

III.  i.  151.  'But  mine  is,'  etc.;  Hudson  (Lettsom  conj.),  from 
Quartos,  reads  'But  I  am,'  etc.;  '  mine' =  '  my  death.' 

III.  i.  211.  'strays';  Theobald  (adopting  the  conj.  Thirlby), 
'  strives ' ;  Vaughan  '  strains.' 

III.  i.  223.  'Free  loras';  Hanmer,  'See,  lords';  Dyce  (Collier 
MS.),  'Fair  lords';  Cambridge  editors  suggest  'My  lords.' 

III.  i.  280.  '  spoke ' ;  so  Folios  ;  Hanmer,  '  spoken.' 

147 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

III.  i.  348.  'nourish'  (monos3'llabic)  =' nurse  '  (verb);  (Col- 
lier MS.  reads  'march'). 

III.  i.  357.  'John  Cade  of  Ashford';  Seymour  adds,  'with  a 
Jicadlong  crezv.' 

MI.  ii.  26.  'Nell';  Theobald,  'Well';  Capell.  'Meg';  Malone. 
'Margaret' ;  Clark  MS.,  '  zvell.'  The  playwright  here,  as  in  other 
places*  {cp.  below,  lines  79,  100,  120),  seems,  by  some  strange 
error,  to  have  thought  of  Eleanor  instead  of  Margaret. 

III.  ii.  70.  'ay  me';  Pope  reads  'ah  me.' 

III.  ii.  78.  Lines  78  to  121  struck  out  in  Collier  MS. 

III.  ii.  79.  'Eleanor' ;  cp.  supra,  Note,  III.  ii.  26. 

III.  ii.  80.  'Statue  and  zvorship  it';  Keightley  correction  of 
Folios,  'Statue,  and  worship  it';  Rowe  reads  'statue,  and  do 
zvorship  to  it';  Capell,  'statue  tJien,  and  zvorship  it':  Dyce. 
'  statua  and  zvorship  it.' 

III.  ii.  88.  'gentle';  Singer  (Anon.  MS.  conj.  and  Collier  MS.) 
reads  'ungentle'  destroying  the  whole  point  of  the  passage. 

III.  ii.  89.  'he'  i.e.  /Eolus,  the  God  of  the  winds. 

III.  ii.  100,  120.  'Eleanor'  cp.  supra,  Note,  III.  ii.  26. 

III.  ii.  147.  '  eartJiy ' ;  the  reading  of  Folio  i  ;  Folios  2,  3,  4, 
'  eartJily.' 

III.  ii.  152.  'For  seeing  him  I  see  my  life  in  death';  Folio  4 
reads  '  For  .  .  .  life  is  Death ' ;  Johnson,  '  For  .  .  .  death 
in  life';  Capell,  'And  .  .  .  death  in  life';  Rann,  'And 
.     .     .     life  in  death';   Vaughan,  'So     .     .     .     myself  in   death.' 

III.  ii.  163.  'being  all  descended,'  i.e.  "the  blood  being." 

III.  ii.  182.  'And  botJi  of  you  zvere  vozv'd  Duke  Humphrey's 
foes ' ;  the  reading  of  Folio  i  ;  Folio  2,  '  zvere  .  .  .  death  ' ; 
Folios  3,  4,  '  have  .  .  .  death  ' ;  Capell  first  suggested  true 
reading. 

III.  ii.  192.  '  zvas  dead';  Vaughan.  'is  dead,'  or  '  zvas  deaded.' 
or  '  was  ended.' 

III.  ii.  244.  '  Eord  Suffolk ' ;  the  reading  of  Folios ;  Malone 
reads,  from  Quartos,  '  false  Suffolk.' 

III.  ii.  262.  'harmful';    Folios  2,   3,   4,   read  'harmless.' 

III.  ii.  308.  'enemy';   Capell    (from   Quartos),   'enemies.' 

III.  ii.  322.  'daintiest  that';  Theobald,  'daintiest  meat';  Han- 
mer  (from  Quartos),  'daintiest  thing';  Vaughan,  'daintiest  cate.' 

III.  ii.  344-5.  '  That  thou  niightest  think'  etc.  '*  That  by  the 
impression  of  my  kiss  forever  remaining  on  thy  hand,  thou  might- 
est  think  of  those  lips  through  which  a  thousand  sighs  will  be 
breathed  for  thee"   (Johnson). 

148 


KING  HENRY  VI. 


Notes 


HI.  ii.  359.  ' ///r;/rr.'  away  from  the  land;  Folios  2,  3,  4, 
'  hence.' 

III.  ii.  366.  '  no  joy  ' ;  Singer  (Collier  MS.).  '  to  joy  ' ;  '  nought,' 
Folios  3,  4,  'ought/ 

III.  iii.  4.  '  and  feel  no  pain  ' ;  Theobald  reads,  from  Quartos. 
'  but  one  whole  year.' 

III.  iii.  21-2. 

'  O  heat  azvay  the  busy  meddling  fiend 
That     lays    strong    siege    unto     this 
zi'rctch's  soul.' 

The  annexed  cut,  from  Douce's  Illus- 
trations of  Shakespeare,  depicts  the 
angels  of  good  and  evil  contending  for 
a  departing  soul. 

IV.  i.  21,  22.  '  The  lives  of  those,' 
etc.,  so  Folios,  with  the  exception  of 
the  note  of  exclamation,  added  by 
Grant  White ;  Knight  prints  a  note  of 
interrogation ;  Nicholson,  '  Shall  the 
lives  .  .  .  sumf'  Marshall,  'The 
liz'cs     .     .     .     shall  they  Be  conterpoiscd,'  etc. 

IV.  i.  48.  Omitted      in      Folios:      restored 
Quartos). 

IV.  i.  50.  In  Folios  this  line  is  made  part  of  preceding  speech, 
with  '  lozi'sie'  for  'lowly,'  restored  by  Pope  (from  Quartos). 

IV.  i.  70.  'Cap.  Ves,  Pole.  Suf.  Pole!'  added  by  Capell  from 
Quartos. 

IV.  i.  85.  '  mother's  bleeding,'  Rowe's  correction  of  Folios, 
'Mother-bleeding.' 

IV.  i.  117.  '  Gelidus  timor  occiipat  artus,'  i.e.  "chill  fear  seizes 
my  limbs";  the  reading  of  Folios  2,  3,  4 ;  Folio  i  reads,  'Pine 
gelidus';  Theobald,  '  Pcene  gelidus,'  etc  {cp.  Aineid,  vii.  446). 

IV.  i.  129.  Lloyd,  'Exempt  from  fear  is  true  nobility.' 

IV.  i.  136.  '  Brutus'  bastard  hand  ' ;  Theobald  proposed  '  das- 
tard,' but  afterwards  withdrew  his  suggestion ;  Servilia,  the 
mother  of  Brutus,  became,  it  is  true,  the  mistress  of  Julius  Caesar, 
but  not  until  after  the  birth  of  Brutus. 

IV.  i.  137,  138.  'savage  islanders  Pompcy  th.c  Great';  the 
the  story  of  Pompey's  death  is  given  in  Plutarch;  the  murderers 
were  Achillas,  an  Egyptian,  and  Septimius,  who  had  served  under 
him ;  perhaps  they  are  described  as  '  islanders,'  because  the  mur- 


by      Pope      (from 


149 


Notes 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


the  midst 
CJwr- 


der  was  committed  at  Pelusium,  an  island-like  spot  in 
of  morasses  at  the  easternmost  mouth  of  the  Nile. 

IV.  ii.  86.  'Chatham' ;    Rowe's    emendation;    Folio    i. 
tarn  ' ;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  '  Chattam/ 
etc. 

IV.  ii.  133.  'Adam  was  a 
gardener/     Cp.  illustration. 

IV.  iii.  9.  '  a  hundred  lack- 
ing one';  Malone,  'a  hundred 
lacking  one  a  week/  from 
Quartos.  In  the  reign  of  Eliza- 
beth butchers  were  not  allowed 
to  sell  flesh-meat  in  Lent ;  by 
special  licenses,  however,  a 
lim.ited  number  of  beasts  might 
be  killed  each  week. 

IV.  iv.  22.  Pope,  'Lament- 
ing still  and  mourning  Suf- 
folk's death?' 

IV.  iv.  43.  'Lord  Say,  the 
traitors  hate  thee';  Folio  i, 
*  hateth  ' :  Capell.  '  traitor  rebel 
hateth  ' ;  Marshall,  '  the  traitor  Jack  Cade  hateth  thee.' 

IV.  vii.  36.  'thou  hast  caused  printing  to  he  used':  printing 
was  not  really  introduced  into  England  until  twenty  years  later. 

IV.  vii.  62,  6^.  Caesar  says  in  Book  V.  of  the  "  Commentaries." 
'Ex  his  omnibus  sunt  humanissimi  qui  Cantium  incolunt,'  which 
Golding  rendered  (1590),  'Of  all  the  inhabitants  of  this  isle,  the 
civilest  are  the  Kentish  folke.' 

IV.  vii.  64.  'because  full';  Hanmer  reads  'beauteous,  full'; 
Vaughan.  '  bounteous,  full,'  etc. 

IV.  vii.  72.  'But   to    maintain'    (Johnson;    Rann)  ;    'Kent    to 


From  a  XlVth  century  sculpture  at 
Rouen. 


Steevens,   '  Bent   to 


m. 


Malone, 


Folio  I 
zi'ith   a 


Folios  2,  3,  4, 
hatchet,'  a   sin- 


VI. /   the   reading  of   Folios; 
'Kent  to  m.,'  etc. 

IV.  vii.  92.  '  The  help  of  hatchet,'  so 
'the  help  of  a  hatchet';  Farmer,  'pap 
gularly  happy  emendation. 

IV.  vii.  113.  'Sir  James  Cromer';  it  was 
whom  Cade  beheaded. 

IV.  viii.  13.  '  rebel ' ;    Singer's    emendation 
Anon  MS.)  of  Folios,  'rabble';  Vaughan,  'ribald.' 

IV.  ix.  26.  'Of   gallowglasses    and     stout     kernes';     Hanmer 


Sir  William  Cromer 
(Collier    MS.    and 


150 


KING  HENRY  VI. 


Notes 


reads,  '  Of  dcsp'rate  gall ow glasses'  etc 
etc. ;  Dyce,  '  Of  savage  g.'  etc. ;  '  stout 
'  kernes' ; 

IV.  ix. 

IV.  ix. 
Folio  2, 
Walker,  ' 

IV.  ix. 
Staunton, 
ivith  him 


Capell.  '  Of  nimble  g.,' 
Mitford,  'stout  Irish  '\ 
Keightley,  'kernes,  he'',  Vaiighan.  'kernes  supplied.' 
29.  'arms';  Folio  i,  'Amies';  Folios  2,  3.  4,  'Armies* 
2,3.  '  calm'd'  the  reading  of  Folio  4;  Folio  i,  '  calme*\ 
'  claimd  ' ;  Folio  3.  '  claim'd  ' ;  Beckett,  '  cramp' d  ' ; 
chased.' 

■^6.  'I  pray  thee,  Buckingham,  go  and  meet  htm*', 
'  Go,  I  pray  thee,  B.'  etc. ;  Rowe  reads,  '  go  and  meet 
;  Malone,  'to  go  and  meet  him';  Steevens  (1793),  'go 
forth  and  meet  him';  Collier  (Collier  MS.),  'then  go  and  meet 
him';  Dyce,  'go  thou  and  meet  him.' 

IV.  X.  I,  'Fie  on  ambition';  so  the  later  Folios;  Folio  i,  'Am- 
bitions.' 
IV.  X.  30.  '  eat  iron  like  an  ostrich.'    Cp.  illustration. 


From  a  XVth  century  illumination. 

IV.  X.  46.  '  That  Alexander  Iden,  an  esquire  of  Kent' ;  Capell, 
' 'squir' ;  Marshall  omits  'an,'  following  Hall. 

IV.  X.  56.  'As  for  words  whose  greatness  answers  words'; 
Rowe  reads,  'As  for  more  zvords'  etc.;  Mason,  'As  for  mere 
words'  etc.;  Dyce  (Anon,  conj.),  'But  as  for  words,'  etc.,  etc. 

IV.  X.  62.  'God';  Malone's  correction  (from  Quartos)  of 
'  lone  '  of  the  Folios. 

IV.  X,  84.  'And  as  J  thrust  thy  body  in  with  my  sword' ;  Dyce 
(Lloyd  conj.),  omits  'in.' 

V.  i.  74.  'Alexander  Iden,  that's  my  name';  Capell,  'My  name 
is  Alexander  Iden,  sir';  Hanmer,  ' Ev'n  Alexander,'  etc.;  Edd., 
'Iden,  Alexander  Iden,'  etc.;  Keightley,  'Alexander  Iden,  that's 
my  name,  my  liege,'  etc. 

V.  i.  78.  'Iden,  kneel  down.  Rise  up  a  knight';  Hanmer 
reads,   'Iden   kneel   down;   and   rise    thou   up   a   knight';    Dyce 

151 


Notes 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


(Lettsom  conj.)  '  Iden,  kneel  dozi'ii.  Men,  rise  up  a  knight'; 
Vaughan,  'Iden,  kneel  dozvn;  and  nozu  rise  up  Sir  Alexander/ 

V.  i.  95.  '  darest ' ;  monosyllabic  ;  Folio  i,  '  dar'st ' ;  Folios  2, 
3,4,'  durst.' 

V.  i.  109.  '  these  ' ;  Theobald's  correction  of  '  thee '  of  the 
Folios. 

V.  i.  130.  '  mistakest' ;  so  Folios  2.  3,  4;  Folio  i,  'mistakes' 

V.  i.  146.  '  fell-liirking  ' ;  Roderick,  '  fell-barking  ' ;  Hudson 
(Heath  conj.).  'fell-lurching';  Collier  (Collier  MS.),  'fell- 
looking  ' ;  Capell,  '  fell  lurking.' 

V.  i.  170.  'shame';  Dyce  (Walker  conj.),  'stain.' 

V.  i.  211,  'victorious' ;  so  Folio  i;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  read  'vic- 
torious noble.' 

V.  ii.  28.  'La  fin  couronne  les  ociivres';  i.e.  'the  end  crowns 
the  work.'  Folio  i  reads,  '  Corrone  les  >eumenes ' ;  Folios  2,  3,  4, 
'  Corronne  les  oevres.' 

V.  ii.  42.  '  Knit  earth  and  heaven  together';  Vaughan  adds  'in 
one  blase.' 

V.  ii.  66.  'So,  lie  thou  there';  Malone  supposes  that  a  line  has 
been  omitted  here,  equivalent  to  '  Behold  the  prophecy  is  come  to 
pass';  Vaughan  conj.  adds  'fulfilling  prophecy.' 

V.  ii.  87.  '  parts  ' ;  Hanmer  reads  '  pow'rs ' ;  Warburton,  '  party  ' ; 
Collier  MS.,  '  frends';  Dyce   (Walker  conj.),  'part.' 

V.  iii.  I.  'of;  Collier  MS.  (from  Quartos),  'Old'  adopted 
by  Dyce. 

V.  ii'.  29.  'faith';  Malone's  correction  (frorfi  Quartos); 
Folios,  '  hand.' 


London  Bridge. 
From  an  illumination  in  tlie  poems  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  (Royal  MS.,  16F2). 


15' 


KING  HENRY  VI. 


The  Battle  of  Tewksbury. 
From  a  contemporary  MS.  preserved  in  the  Public  Library  at  Ghent. 


153 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Explanatory  Notes. 

The  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  edition  have  been  specially  selected  and 
adapted,  with  emendations  after  the  latest  and  best  authorities,  from  the 
most  eminent  Shakespearian  scholars  and  commentators,  including  Johnson, 
Malone,  Steevens,  Singer,  Dyce,  Hudson,  White,  Furness,  Dovvden,  and 
others.  This  method,  here  introduced  for  the  first  time,  provides  the  best 
annotation  of  Shakespeare  ever  embraced  in  a  single  edition. 


ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

58,  Anjou  and  Maine : — The  reader  will  observe  that  this  item 
does  not  run  the  same  as  it  did  in  the  hands  of  Gloucester.  Ma- 
lone thinks  that  the  words  of  the  instrument  could  not  thus  vary 
while  it  was  passing  from  the  hands  of  Gloucester  to  those  of  the 
Cardinal.  Some  have  supposed  that  Gloucester  had  caught  the 
drift  and  substance  of  the  document,  but  the  dimness  of  his  eyes 
prevented  his  reading  with  literal  exactness.  But  others  regard 
the  discrepancy  as  due  to  an  oversight  on  the  part  of  the  dramatist. 

75-103.  Every  line  of  this  speech,  except  the  first,  is  marked  by 
Malone,  as  being  altered  from  the  Quarto.  That  the  reader  may 
have  a  specimen  of  the  changes  in  the  Folio,  we  subjoin  the  whole 
speech  as  it  stands  in  the  Quarto : — 

"  Brave  peers  of  England,  pillars  of  the  state, 
To  you  Duke  Humphrey  must  unfold  his  grief. 
What !  did  my  brother  Henry  toil  himself, 
And  waste  his  subjects,  for  to  conquer  France? 
And  did  my  brother  Bedford  spend  his  time. 
To  keep  in  awe  that  stout  unruly  realm  ? 
And  have  not  I  and  mine  uncle  Beaufort  here 
Done  all  we  could  to  keep  that  land  in  peace? 
And  are  all  our  labours,  then,  spent  quite  in  vain  ? 
For  Suffolk  he,  the  new-made  duke  that  rules  the  roost, 
Hath  given  away,  for  our  King  Henry's  queen, 
The  duchies  of  Anjou  and  Maine  unto  her  father. 

154 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

Ah  lords  !  fatal  is  this  marriage,  cancelling  our  states, 
Reversing  monuments  of  conquer'd  France, 
Undoing  all,  as  none  had  ne'er  been  done." 

It  will  be  seen  upon  comparison,  that  of  twenty-eight  lines  fifteen 
were  original  in  the  Folio,  though  the  new  lines  are  little  more 
than  .an  amplification  of  the  old  thoughts. 

105.  TJiis  peroration,  etc. : — This  speech  crowded  with  so  many 
circumstances  of  aggravation. 

115.  But  ivherefore  weeps,  etc. : — The  Salisbury  of  this  play  was 
Richard  Neville,  second  son  to  Ralph  Neville,  whom  we  have 
met  with  in  Henry  IV.  as  Earl  of  Westmoreland.  Richard  was 
married  to  Alice,  the  only  child  and  heir  of  Thomas  Montacute, 
the  Earl  of  Salisbury  who  was  killed  at  the  siege  of  Orleans  in 
1428;  and  thus  brought  that  earldom  into  the  Neville  family.  His 
oldest  son,  Richard,  again,  was  married  to  Anne,  the  sister  and 
heir  of  Henry  Beauchamp,  Earl  of  Warwick,  and  so  succeeded  to 
that  earldom  in  1449.  The  dramatist,  though  he  rightly  makes 
Warwick  the  son  of  Salisbury,  attributes  to  him  the  acts  of  Rich- 
ard Beauchamp,  the  Earl  of  Warwick  who  figures  in  the  preceding 
play. 

134.  costs  and  charges : — Thus  Holinshed :  "  First,  the  King 
had  not  one  penie  with  hir ;  and  for  the  fetching  of  hir  the  Mar- 
quesse  of  Suffolk  demanded  a  whole  fifteenth  in  open  parlement. 
And  also  there  was  delivered  for  hir  the  duchie  of  Anjou,  the  citie 
of  Mans,  and  the  whole  countie  of  Maine,  which  countries  were 
the  verie  stales  and  backestands  to  the  duchie  of  Normandie." 

194.  York  : — This  Duke  of  York  married  Cicely,  daughter  to 
Ralph  Neville,  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  by  Joan,  his  first  wife,  who 
again,  was  daughter  to  John  of  Ghent  by  Catharine  Swynford. 
Salisbury  was  the  son  of  Westmoreland  by  a  second  wife.  Of 
course  therefore  York's  wife  was  half-sister  to  the  Earl  of  Salis- 
bury. The  dramatist  here  anticipates.  York,  having  been  ap- 
pointed to  the  regency  of  France  a  second  time,  was  forced  to  give 
up  that  place  to  his  rival,  Somerset,  and  accept  the  government  of 
Ireland  instead ;  from  which  latter  country  he  did  not  return  till 
1450,  more  than  three  years  after  the  death  of  Cardinal  Beaufort. 

216.  tickle: — So  in  Spenser's  fragment.  Of  Mutabilitie,  vii.  22: — 

"  O  weake  life  !  that  does  leane 
On  thing  so  tickle  as  th'  unsteady  Ayre, 
Which  every  howre  is  chang'd,  and  altred  cleane 
With  every  blast  that  bloweth  fowle  or  faire." 

155 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

234,  235.  the  fatal  brand  .  .  .  Calydon  : — According  to  Ovid, 
the  life  of  Meleager,  Prince  of  Calydon,  was  made  to  depend  on 
a  certain  firebrand;  which  being  thrown  into  the  fire  by  his  mother 
Althea,  he  expired  in  great  torments. 

Scene  II. 

[Duchess.]  This  Duchess  of  Gloucester  was  Eleanor,  daugh- 
ter to  Reginald  Lord  Cobham.  The  duke  had  formerly  lived  on 
such  terms  with  Jacqueline  of  Bavaria,  that  she  was  commonly 
supposed  to  be  his  wife ;  but,  as  she  already  had  a  husband,  John 
Duke  of  Brabant,  from  whose  claim  she  could  not  get  a  legal  re- 
lease, her  union  with  Gloucester  was  necessarily  broken  off. 
Meanwhile,  the  duke  had  been  openly  living  with  Eleanor  Cob- 
ham  as  his  mistress,  insomuch  that  in  1423  the  principal  matrons 
of  London  went  to  the  House  of  Lords  with  a  petition  against  him 
for  having  neglected  his  lawful  wife. 

Scene  III. 

51  ct  seq.  In  the  Quarto  this  passage  reads  thus: — 

"  I  tell  thee,  Poole,  when  thou  didst  run  at  tilt, 
And  stol'st  away  our  ladies',  hearts  in  France, 
I  thought  King  Henry  had  been  like  to  thee, 
Or  else  thou  hadst  not  brought  me  out  of  France." 

As  Marlowe  has  been  thought  to  have  written  this  play  as  printed 
in  the  Quarto,  it  seems  but  fair  to  quote  a  similar  passage  from 
his  Edzvard  II. : — 

"  Tell  Isabel,  the  queen,  I  look'd  not  thus. 
When  for  her  sake  /  ran  at  tilt  in  France, 
And  there  unhors'd  the  Duke  of  Cleremont." 

133-135-  Thy  cruelty,  etc.: — The  groundwork  of  these  charges 
on  the  duke  is  thus  stated  in  Holinshed :  "  The  queene,  a  ladi^ 
of  great  wit,  and  no  lesse  courage,  desirous  of  honour,  and  fur 
nished  with  the  gifts  of  reason,  policie,  and  wisdome,  disdainin.si 
that  hir  husband  should  be  ruled  rather  than  rule,  first  of  all 
excluded  the  Duke  of  Glocester  from  all  rule  and  governance* 

156 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

not  prohibiting  such  as  she  knew  to  be  his  mortal  foes  to  invent 
and  imagine  causes  and  greefs  against  him  and  his,  insomuch  that 
diverse  noblemen  conspired  against  him.  Diverse  articles  were 
laid  against  him  in  open  councell,  ana  especiallie  one — That  he 
had  caused  men,  adjudged  to  die,  to  be  put  to  other  execution 
than  the  law  of  the  land  assigned." 

143.  ten  commandments : — This  appears  to  have  been  a  popular 
phrase  for  the  ten  fingers.  So  in  Sclimns,  Emperor  of  the  Turks, 
1594:  "I  would  set  a  tap  abroach  and  not  live  in  fear  of  my 
wife's  ten  commandments.'''  Again,  in  Westward  Hoe,  1607: 
"  Your  harpy  has  set  his  ten  commandments  on  my  back."  And 
in  Udal's  version  of  Erasmus's  Apothegms :  "  When  Xantippe 
had  pulled  awaye  her  husbandes  cope  from  his  backe,  even  in  the 
open  streete,  and  his  familiar  compaignons  gave  him  a  by  warn- 
ing to  avenge  suche  a  naughtie  touche  or  pranke  with  his  tenne 
commandments.'' 

166-173.  I'll  tell  thee,  etc.: — The  issue  of  this  deadly  feud  be- 
tween York  and  Somerset  is  thus  related  by  Holinshed :  "  But 
the  Duke  of  Summerset,  still  maligning  the  Duke  of  Yorkes  ad- 
vancement, as  he  had  sought  to  hinder  his  dispatch  at  the  first 
when  he  was  sent  over  to  the  regent,  likewise  now  wrought  so, 
that  the  King  revoked  the  grant  made  to  the  Duke  of  Yorke  for 
enjoieng  of  that  office  the  terme  of  other  five  yeeres,  and  with 
helpe  of  William  Marquesse  of  Suffolke  obteined  that  grant  for 
himselfe.  Which  malicious  deling  the  Duke  of  Yorke  might  so 
evill  beare,  that  in  the  end  the  heate  of  displeasure  burst  out  into 
such  a  flame,  as  consumed  at  length  not  onelie  both  those  two 
noble  personages,  but  also  manie  thousands  of  others." 

191.  By  these  ten  hones: — We  have  just  heard  a  duchess 
threaten  to  set  her  ten  commandments  in  the  face  of  a  queen. 
We  have  here  again  a  similar  vulgar  expression.  It  is,  how- 
ever, a  very  ancient  popular  adjuration,  and  may  be  found  in 
many  old  dramatic  pieces.     So  in  Jacke  Jugler : — 

Jack.  Ye.  mary,  I  tell  thee  Careawaye  is  my  name. 
Car.  And  by  these  tenne  hones  myne  is  the  same. 

Scene  IV. 

30.  It  was  believed  that  spirits  raised  by  incantations  remained 
above  ground  and  answered  questions  with  reluctance. 

157 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

ACT  SECOND. 

Scene  I. 

97-129,  Hoiv  long  hast  thou  been  blind f  etc.: — This  passage 
between  Gloucester  and  Simpcox  is  founded  on  a  story  told  by 
Sir  Thomas  More,  substantially  as  follows:  One  time,  as  King 
Henry  VL  rode  in  progress,  there  came  to  the  town  of  Saint 
Alban's  a  certain  beggar,  with  his  wife,  and  there  was  walking 
about  the  town,  begging,  saying  that  he  was  born  blind,  and  was 
warned  in  a  dream  that  he  should  come  out  of  Berwick,  where  he 
had  ever  dwelt,  to  seek  Saint  Alban.  When  the  King  was  come, 
and  the  town  full  of  people,  suddenly  this  blind  man,  at  Saint  Al- 
ban's shrine,  had  his  sight ;  and  the  same  was  solemnly  rung  for 
a  miracle,  so  that  nothing  else  was  talked  of  in  all  the  town.  It  so 
happened  that  Humphrey  Duke  of  Gloucester,  a  man  no  less  wise 
than  well-learned,  called  the  poor  man  to  him,  and  looked  well 
upon  his  eyes,  and  asked  whether  he  could  never  see  anything  in 
all  his  life  before.  When  both  himself  and  his  wife  affirmed 
fastly  "  no."  then  he  looked  advisedly  upon  his  eyes  again,  and 
said,  "  I  believe  you  say  well,  for  methinketh  ye  cannot  see  well 
yet."  "  Yes,  sir."  quoth  he ;  "I  thank  God  and  his  holy  martyr, 
I  can  see  now  as  well  as  any  man."  "  Ye  can?  "  quoth  the  duke; 
"what  colour  is  this  gown?"  Then  anon  the  beggar  told  him. 
"What  colour,"  quoth  he,  "is  this  man's  gown?"  He  told  him 
this  also,  without  staying  or  stumbling,  and  so  of  all  the  colours 
that  could  be  showed  him.  i\nd  when  the  duke  saw  that,  he  had 
him  set  openly  in  the  stocks. 

Scene  II. 

[York.]  Herford  says:  "Margaret's  chief  opponent  in  the  .Sec- 
ond Part,  the  Duke  of  York,  also  has  assigned  to  him  a  somewhat 
more  commanding  role  than  in  the  chronicle.  Till  near  the  close 
he  plays  a  waiting  game ;  but  he  plays  it  with  more  far-reaching 
and  more  unscrupulous  policy  than  his  historic  prototype.  Hol- 
inshed's  York  watches  the  two  great  obstacles  in  his  path,  Glouces- 
ter and  Suffolk,  successively  ruined  without  his  stir ;  the  dramatic 
York  is  not  prevented  by  Gloucester's  warm  advocacy  of  his  claims 
to  the  French  regency  from  actively  '  levelling  at  his  life.'  Holin- 
shed  attributes  Cade's  revolt  to  incitements  of  '  those  that  favoured 

158 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

the  Duke  of  York.'  In  the  play  it  is  York  himself  who  conceives 
the  plan  of  stirring  up  in  England  this  *  black  storm.'  At  the 
very  moment  when  he  finally  threw  off  hisdisguise  and  claimed  the 
crown,  the  York  of  Holinshed  and  history  was  all  but  check- 
mated by  a  resolute  move  of  the  party  in  power.  Rashly  disband- 
ing his  troops  on  the  King's  compliance  with  his  demand  for 
Somerset's  arrest,  he  was  himself  arrested  and  sent  to  the  Tower ; 
and  his  fate  hung  in  the  balance  when  the  news  of  Edward's 
armed  advance  caused  his  sudden  release.  The  York  of  the 
drama  suffers  a  briefer  anxiety.  His  arrest  is  no  sooner  proposed 
than  Richard  and  Edward  rush  in  to  bail  him,  and  his  *  two  brave 
bears,'  Warwick  and  Salisbury,  compel  the  appeal  to  arms  which 
issues  in  the  victory  of  Saint  Albans." 

Scene  III. 

I1-13.  This  sentence  fell  upon  the  duchess  in  November,  1441. 
Holinshed  gives  the  following  account  of  the  matter :  "  This 
yeare  dame  Eleanor  Cobham,  wife  to  the  said  duke,  was  accused 
of  treason ;  for  that  she  by  sorcerie  and  enchantment  intended  to 
destroie  the  King,  to  the  intent  to  advance  hir  husband  unto  the 
crowne.  Upon  this  she  was  examined  in  saint  Stephans  chappefl 
before  the  Bishop  of  Canterburie,  and  there  convict  and  judged 
to  doo  penance  in  three  open  places  within  the  citie  of  London ; 
and  after  that  to  perpetuall  imprisonment  in  the  He  of  Man,  under 
the  keeping  of  sir  John  Stanlie  knight."  As  this  crime  and  pun- 
ishment of  the  duchess  had  much  to  do  in  bringing  about  her 
husband's  fall,  there  was  good  dramatic  reason  for  setting  it  in 
close  connection  with  the  latter  event,  though  in  fact  the  two  were 
over  five  years  apart. 

95.  /  confess  treason : — This  odd  aft'air  of  Peter  and  Horner  is 
founded  on  an  incident  told  by  Holinshed.  It  will  be  seen  that 
the  dramatist  innovated  upon  the  story,  in  making  Horner  "  con- 
fess treason."  "In  the  same  yeare  also,"  (1446)  "a  certaine  ar- 
mourer was  appeached  of  treason  by  a  servant  of  his  owne.  For 
proofe  whereof  a  daie  was  given  them  to  fight  in  Smithfield,  inso- 
much that  in  conflict  the  said  armourer  was  overcome  and  slaine ; 
but  yet  by  misgoverning  of  himselfe.  For  on  the  morrow,  when 
he  should  come  to  the  field  fresh  and  fasting,  his  neighbours  came 
to  him,  and  gave  him  wine  and  strong  drink  in  such  excessive 
sort,  that  he  was  therewith  distempered,  and  reeled  as  he  went, 
and  so  was  slaine  without  guilt.    As  for  the  false  servant,  he  lived 

159 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

not  long  unpunished ;    for  being  convict  of  felonie   in  court  of 
assise,  he  was  judged  to  be  hanged,  and  so  was,  at  Tiburne." 

Scene  IV. 

27-57.  The  thirty-one  lines  of  this  speech  are  an  expansion,  but 
scarcely  an  improvement,  as  comparison  will  show,  of  twenty- 
three  in  the  Quarto. 

ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

[Queen  .  .  .  Suffolk.]  In  this  Act  the  criminal  passion  of 
Margaret  and  Suffolk  blossoms  and  goes  to  seed,  setting  Suffolk 
near  the  throne,  and  thereby  at  once  feeding  his  pride  and  chafing 
the  pride  of  his  enemies ;  while  the  losses  in  France,  before  rep- 
presented,  are  ever  and  anon  recurring  as  matter  of  continual 
twittings  and  jerks,  the  rust  of  former  miscarriages  thus  at  the 
same  time  keeping  the  old  wounds  from  healing,  and  causing  the 
new  ones  to  fester  and  rankle.  As  the  amiable  imbecility  of  the 
King  invites  and  smooths  the  way  for  the  arrogance  and  over- 
weening of  the  Queen  and  her  favourites,  this  naturally  sets  the 
aspiring  and  far-reaching  York  upon  the  policy  of  hewing  away 
one  after  another  the  main  supports  of  the  rival  house,  that  so  at 
last  he  may  heave  it  to  the  ground,  and  out  of  its  ruins  build  up 
his  own.  "  The  character  of  the  King,"  says  Ulrici,  "  which  had 
become  effeminate  and  unmanly,  required,  as  an  organic  contrast, 
a  woman  who  had  become  masculine  and  depraved  in  character. 
For  Henry's  disgrace  as  a  deceived  husband  was  the  consequence 
of  his  own  fault  in  having  allowed  himself,  with  the  disposition 
he  possessed,  to  be  persuaded  to  take  such  a  wife.  This  his  first 
and  only  active  sin — all  his  later  sins  are  but  errors  of  omission — 
had  accordingly  to  be  more  prominently  brought  forward  in  order 
to  show  how  even  the  smallest  germ  of  evil  shoots  up  like  rank 
weeds  and  becomes  incalculable  in  the  mischief  it  produces.  The 
Queen  reigns  in  the  King's  place,  and  turns  bad  into  its  very 
worst.  He,  thrust  back  by  her  love  of  dominion,  sinks  more  and 
more  into  the  mere  semblance  of  a  king ;  even  the  open  infidelity 
of  his  wife  no  longer  rouses  him,  and  thus  his  peaceful,  pious, 
humble  nature— otherwise  worthy  of  the  highest  praise — acquires 

i6o 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

more  and  more  the  appearance  of  the  most  sinful  weakness  of 
character  and  want  of  energy.  Accordingly,  in  Henry's  relation 
to  Margaret,  we  again  have,  in  a  new  modification,  the  reflection 
of  the  fundamental  idea  of  this  Second  Part." 

83.  What  news  from  France  f — Here,  again,  the  dramatist  antic- 
ipates. The  parliament  at  Bury  was  opened  February  10,  1447. 
On  the  28th  of  the  same  month  Gloucester  was  found  dead.  Som- 
erset's return  from  France  was  not  till  September,  1450;  in  fact, 
he  did  not  enter  upon  the  regency  till  after  this  Parliament. 

189  et  seq.  This  was  most  likely  suggested  by  the  following 
from  Holinshed :  "  Ofttimes  it  hapneth  that  a  man,  in  quenching 
of  smoke,  burneth  his  fingers  in  the  fire:  so  the  Queene,  in  cast- 
ing how  to  keepe  hir  husband  in  honour,  and  hirselfe  in  authoritie, 
in  making  awaie  of  this  noble  man  brought  that  to  passe  which 
she  had  most  cause  to  have  feared;  which  was  the  deposing  of  hir 
husband,  and  the  decaie  of  the  house  of  Lancaster,  which  of  like- 
lihood had  not  chanced,  if  this  duke  had  lived." 

245.  'Tis  York,  etc. : — York  had  more  reason  for  desiring 
Humphrey's  death,  because  he  stood  between  him  and  the  crown, 
which  he  had  proposed. to  himself  in  his  ambitious  views.  Thus 
in  the  closing  lines  of  this  Scene  he  says  : — 

"  For  Humphrey  being  dead,  as  he  shall  be, 
And  Henry  put  apart,  the  next  for  me." 

355-359-  for  a  minister,  etc.: — There  is  no  proof  that  York  was 
any  way  privy  to  the  insurrection  of  Cade,  save  that  it  fell  out 
very  opportunely  for  his  purpose,  and  those  engaged  in  it  were 
generally  favourable  to  his  claim:  for  which  cause  he  was  natu- 
rally suspected  to  have  set  it  on  foot ;  and  that  suspicion,  ripened 
into  belief,-  was  no  doubt  handed  down  to  the  dramatist's  time  in 
the  bundle  of  "Lancastrian  prejudices."  This  speech  of  York's, 
however,  makes  a  capital  point  in  the  drama,  as  it  represents  him 
to  have  been  the  conscious  designer,  as  in  fact  he  was  to  a  great 
extent  the  real  occasion  of  the  following  events;  and  it  was 
plainly  more  dramatic  to  set  him  forth  as  the  maker  of  circum- 
stances than  as  merely  the  user  of  them.  In  the  Quarto  this 
speech  has  but  twenty-five  lines,  which  are  here  rather  consoli- 
dated than  expanded  into  fifty-three. 

365.  a  zvild  Morisco : — A  dancer  in  a  morris-dance,  originally, 
perhaps,  meant  to  imitate  a  Moorish  dance,  and  thence  named. 
The  bells  sufficiently  indicate  that  the  English*  morris-dancer  is 
intended.     It  appears  from  Blount's  Glossography,  and  some  of 

161 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART^OF 

our  eld  writers,  that  the  dance  itself  was  called  a  morisco.  Florio, 
in  the  first  edition  of  his  Italian  Dictionary,  defines  "  IMoresca,  a 
kind  of  morice  or  antique  dance,  after  the  Moorish  or  Ethiopian 
fashion." 

Scene  II. 

14.  Away!  be  gone: — The  common  belief  of  the  people,  and  the 
no  less  common  report  of  the  chroniclers  was,  that  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester  was  murdered,  by  procurement  of  the  Queen,  Suffolk, 
and  Somerset:  which  w^ould  doubtless  have  justified  the  dram- 
atist's representation,  even  if  he  had  known  the  truth  to  be  other- 
wise ;  for  the  very  dact  of  such  a  belief  proves,  in  some  sort,  that 
the  thing  believed  was  consonant  to  the  spirit  of  the  time.  The 
strongest  argument  in  the  question  is  derived  from  Whethamstede, 
Abbot  of  Saint  Alban's,  and  is  strongly  stated  by  Lingard,  thus : 
"  That  writer,  who  had  received  many  benefits  from  the  duke,  was 
much  attached  to  his  memory,  which  he  vindicates  on  all  occa- 
sions, and  equally  prejudiced  against  his  enemies,  whom  he  calls 
canes,  scorpiones,  impii  susurroncs.  And  yet,  though  he  wrote 
when  the  royal  party  was  humbled  in  the  dust,  and  he  had  of 
course  nothing  to  fear  from  their  resentment,  he  repeatedly  as- 
serts that  the  duke  fell  ill  immediately  after  his  arrest,  and  died 
of  his  illness."  The  duke  w^as  arrested  on  the  second  day  of  the 
Parliament  at  Bury,  and  seventeen  days  after  was  found  dead  in 
his  bed.     Holinshed  gives  him  the  noblest  charactei 

83.  azvkivard  zciud: — The  same  uncommon  epithet  is  applied  to 
the  wand  by  Marlowe  in  his  Edzvard  1 1. :  "  With  azvkzvard  zi'inds, 
and  with  sore  tempests  driven."  And  by  Drayton,  Epistle  from 
Richard  II.  to  Queen  Isabcll: — 

"  And  undertook  to  travaile  dangerous  waies. 
Driven  by  azvkzvard  zvinds  and  boisterous  seas." 

t6i.  Ghost  was  often  used  thus  for  corpse  by  the  old  writers. 
In  a  later  passage  of  the  original  play  the  word  ghost  is  again 
used  as  in  the  present  instance.  Young  Clifford,  addressing  him- 
self to  his  father's  dead  body,  says  : — 

"  A  dismal  sight !  see  where  he  breathless  lies, 
All  smear'd  and  welter'd  in  his  lukewarm  blood ! 
Sweet  father,  to  thy  murder' d  ghost  I  swear." 

297.  The  world,  etc.: — The  storm  of  the  commons  aorainst  Suf- 
folk did  not  burst  forth  till  January,  1450,  and  was  immediately 

i53 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

occasioned  by  the  disasters  in  France  under  Somerset's  regency. 
As  usual  in  such  cases,  many  terrible  crimes  were  charged  upon 
Suffolk,  but  none  of  them  were  proved;  and  he  fell  at  last  by  vio- 
lence, not  by  law.  Holinshed  has  the  following  account  of  his 
fall :  "  The  Queene,  which  intirely  loved  the  duke,  doubting  some 
commotion  and  trouble  to  arise,  if  he  were  let  go  unpunished, 
caused  him  for  a  colour  to  be  committed  to  the  Tower ;  where  he 
remained  not  past  a  moneth,  but  was  againe  delivered  and  re- 
stored to  the  Kings  favour,  as  much  as  ever  he  was  before.  This 
dooing  so  much  displeased  the  people,  that  if  politike  provision 
had  not  beene.  great  mischeefe  had  immediately  insued.  When 
the  King  perceived  that  there  was  no  remedy  to  appease  the  peo- 
ples furie  by  anie  colourable  waies,  shortlie  to  pacific  so  long  an 
hatred  he  banished  the  Duke  of  Suffolke  for  tearme  of  five  yeares, 
meaning  by  this  exile  to  appease  the  malice  of  the  people  for  the 
time,  and  after  to  revoke  him  home  againe." 

310.  The  old  superstition  touching  the  mandrake  is  thus  ex- 
posed by  Sir  Thomas  Browne  in  his  Vulgar  and  Common  Errors, 
ii.  6:  "The  third  affirmeth  the  roots  of  mandrakes  do  make  a 
noise,  or  give  a  shriek,  upon  eradication ;  which  is  indeed  ridicu- 
lous, and  false  below  confute;  arising,  perhaps,  from  a  small"  and 
stridulous  noise,  which,  being  firmly  rooted,  it  maketh  upon  divul- 
sion  of  parts.  The  last  concerneth  the  danger  ensuing;  that  there 
follows  an  hazard  of  life  to  them  that  pull  it  up ;  that  some  evil 
fate  pursues  them,  and  they  live  not  long  after." 

^2,2,-  You  hade  me  ban  : — This  inconsistency  is  very  common  in 
real  life.  Those  who  are  v€xed  to  impatience,  are  angry  to  see 
others  less  disturbed  than  themselves ;  but  when  others  begin  to 
rave,  they  immediately  see  in  them  what  they  could  not  find  in 
themselves,  the  deformity  and  folly  of  useless  raee. 

375.  zvhispcrs  to  his  pillow: — So  in  Macbeth,  V.  i. :  "Infected 
minds  to  their  deaf  pillows  will  discharge  their  secrets."  The 
passage' stands  thus  in  the  Quarto: — 

"  Sometimes  he  calls  upon  Duke  Humphrey's  ghost, 
And  whispers  to  his  pillow  as  to  him." 

The  Cardinal  died  at  his  palace  of  Wolvesey,  April  it,  1447,  which 
was  six  weeks  after  the  death  of  Gloucester.  He  was  eighty  years 
of  age.  The  chroniclers  give  him  a  very  bad  character,  but  it  is 
remarkable  that  they  do  not  snecify  facts  to  bear  out  their  charges. 
Lingard  vindicates  him :  "  That  he  expired  in  the  agonies  of 
despair,  is  a  fiction  which  we  owe  to  the  imagination  of  Shake- 

163 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

speare :  from  an  eye-witness  we  learn  that  during  a  lingering 
illness  he  devcfted  most  of  his  time  to  religious  exercises.  Ac- 
cording to  the  provisions  of  his  will,  his  wealth  was  chiefly  dis- 
tributed in  charitable  donations." 

381  et  seq.  "  Why  do  I  lament  a  circumstance  of  which  the 
impression  will  pass  away  in  an  hour ;  while  I  neglect  to  think  on 
the  loss  of  Suffolk,  my  affection  for  whom  no  time  will  efface?  " 

Scene  III. 

1-4.  This  scene  was  evidenly  founded,  in  part,  on  a  passage  in 
Hall :  "  Doctor  John,  Baker,  his  privy  counsellor  and  his  chap- 
lain, wrote  that  he,  lying  on  his  death  bed,  said  these  words: 
'Why  should  I  die,  having  so  many  riches?  If  the  whole  realm 
would  save  my  life,  I  am  able  either  by  policy  to  get  it,  or  by 
riches  to  buy  it.  Fie !  will  not  death  be  hired,  nor  will  money  do 
nothing?  When  my  nephew  of  Bedford  died,  I  thought  myself 
half  up  the  wheel ;  but  when  I  saw  my  other  nephew  of  Gloucester 
deceased,  I  thought  myself  able  to  be  equal  with  kings,  and  so 
thought  to  increase  my  treasure  in  hope  to  have  worn  a  triple 
crown.  But  I  see  now  the  world  faileth  me,  and  so  I  am  de- 
ceived; praying  you  all  to  pray  for  me!'"  Lingard  discredits 
this  story. 

SS.  This  Scene  may  be  compared  v/ith  the  following  from  The 
First  Part  of  the  Contention,  Scene  xi. : — 

Enter  King  and  Salsbury,  and  then  the  ciivtaines  he  drazvne,  and 
the  Cardinall  is  discovered  in  Jiis  bed,  raving  and  staring  as 
if  he  were  madde. 

Car.  Oh  death,  if  thou  wilt  let  me  live  but  one  whole  yeare, 

He  give  thee   as  much   gold  as   will   purchase   such  another 
iland. 
King.  Oh  see  my  Lord  of  Salsbury  how  he  is  troubled. 

Lord  Cardinall,  remember  Christ  must  save  thy  soule. 
Car.  Why  died  he  not  in  his  bed? 

What  would  you  have  me  to  do  then? 

Can  I  make  men  live  whether  the}'-  will  or  no? 

Sirra,  go   fetch   me   the   strong  poison   which   the    Pothicary 
sent  me. 

Oh  see  where  Duke  Humphreys  ghoast  doth  stand, 

And  stares  me  in  the  face.   Looke,  looke,  coame  downe  his  haire. 

So  now  hees  gone  againe :  Oh,  oh,  oh. 

164 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

Sal.  See  how  the  panges  of  death  doth  gripe  his  heart. 
King.  Lord  Cardinall,  if  thou  diest  assured  of  heavenly  bHsse, 

Hold  up  thy  hand  and  make  some  signe  to  us. 

[The  Cardinall  dies. 

Oh  see  he  dies,  and  makes  no  signe  at  all. 

Oh  God  forgive  his  soule. 
Sal.  So  bad  an  ende  did  never  none  behold; 

But  as  his  death,  so  was  his  life  in  all. 
King.  Forbeare  to  iudge,  good  Salsbury  forbeare, 

For  God  will  iudge  us  all. 

Go  take  him  hence,  and  see  his  funerals  be  performde. 

[Exet  omnes. 


ACT  FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

50-52.  Suffolk's  boast  of  his  own  blood  was  hardly  warranted 
by  his  origin.  On  his  mother's  side  he  was  distantly  related  to 
Henry  VI.,  but  not  through  the  Lancastrian  race.  If  the  drama- 
tist had  known  his  pedigree,  which  was  humble,  he  would  not 
have  failed  to  make  some  of  his  adversaries  reproach  him  with  it. 

117.  Gelidus  timor  occupat  artus: — The  source  of  this  quotation 
has  not  been  discovered.  It  may  be  a  corruption  of  Virgil's 
"  Snbitns  tremor  occupat  artus"  (^n.,  vii.  446),  or  possibly  a 
modification  of  Ovid,  (Met.,  iii.  40). 

142.  his  head  and  lifeless  body: — The  fate  of  Suffolk  is  des- 
patched in  few  words  by  the  chroniclers.  Thus  Holinshed,  fol- 
'lowing  Hall :  "  But  Gods  justice  would  not  that  so  ungracious  a 
person  should  so  escape :  for  when  he  shipped  in  Suffolke,  intend- 
ing to  transport  himselfe  over  into  France,  he  was  incountered 
with  a  ship  of  warre,  appertaining  to  the  Duke  of  Excester,  con- 
stable of  the  Tower  of  London,  called  the  Nicholas  of  the  Tower. 
The  capteine  of  that  barke  with  small  fight  entered  into  the  dukes 
ship,  and,  perceiving  his  person  present,  brought  him  to  Dover 
road,  and  there  on  the  one  side  of  a  cocke  bote  caused  his  head 
to  be  striken  off,  and  left  his  bodie  with  the  head  lieng  there  on 
the  sands.  Which  corps,  being  there  found  by  a  chapleine  of  his, 
was  conveied  to  Wingfield  college  in  Suffolke,  and  there  buried." 
His  death  occurred  in  May,  1450. 

165 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

Scene  II. 

34.  a  cade  of  herrings : — Tom  Nash  speaks  of  having  weighed 
one  of  Gabriel  Harvey's  books  against  a  cade  of  herrings,  and 
ludicrously  says,  "  That  the  rebel  Jack  Cade  was  the  first  that  de- 
vised to  put  red  herrings  in  cades,  and  from  him  they  have  their 
name."  Cade,  however,  is  derived  from  cadns.  Latin,  a  cask. 
A  cade  was  a  cask  for  containing  probably  six  hundred  herring. 
Cade,  with  more  learning  than  should  naturally  belong  to  his 
character,  alludes  to  his  name  as  from  cado,  to  fall. 

66.  three-hooped  pot,  etc, : — These  drinking  vessels  of  our  an- 
cestors were  of  wood.  Nash,  in  his  Pierce  Pennilesse,  says :  "  I 
believe  hoopes  in  quart  pots  were  invented  to  that  end,  that  every 
man  should  take  his  hoope,  and  no  more." 

y2,  7S-  there  shall  be  no  money : — "  To  mend  the  world  by  ban- 
ishing money,"  says  Johnson,  "is  an  old  contrivance  of  those  who 
did  not  consider  that  the  quarrels  and  mischiefs  which  arise  from 
money,  as  the  signs  or  tickets  of  riches,  must,  if  money  v/ere  to 
cease,  arise  from  riches  themselves,  and  could  never  be  at  an  end 
till  every  man  were  contented  with  his  own  share  of  the  goods 
of  life." 

99.  on  the  top  of  letters: — That  is,  on  the  top  of  Letters  Missive 
and  such  like  public  acts.  So  in  the  old  anonymous  play  of  King 
Henry  V.,  the  Archbishop  of  Bruges  says :  "  I  beseech  your 
grace  to  deliver  me  your  safe  conduct,  under  your  broad  seal 
Emanuel."  The  king  answers :  "  Deliver  him  safe  conduct  under 
our  broad  seal  Emanuel." 

Scene  III. 

12.  [b7-igandine.]  So  Holinshed:  "Jack  Cade,  upon  his  vic- 
torie  against  the  Staffords,  apparelled  himselfe  in  sir  Humfries 
brigandine,  set  full  of  gilt  nailes,  and  so  in  some  glorie  returned 
againe  toward  London." 

Scene  IV. 

28.  Jack  Cade  proclaims  himself  Lord  Mortimer: — Knight  ob- 
serves that  "the  following  curious  entry  is  found  in  the  Issu? 
Roll,  29th  Henry  VL :  '  To  Alexander  Eden,  Sheriff  of  Kent,  and 
to  divers*  other  persons  of  the  same  county.  In  money  paid  to 
them,  viz.,  by  the  hands  of  Gervase  Clifton,  lOoL,  and  by  John 
Scynder,  166/.  \^s.  4d.,  in  part  payment  of  1000  marks,  which  the 

166 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

Lord  the  King  commanded  to  be  paid  to  the  same  Alexander  and 
others,  as  well  for  taking  John  Cade,  an  Irishman,  calling  him- 
self John  Mortymer;  a  great  rebel,  enemy,  and  traitor  to  the  King, 
as  also  for  conducting  the  person  of  John  Cade  to  the  Council 
of  the  King,  after  proclamation  thereof  made  in  London,  to  be 
had  of  his  gift  for  their  pains  in  the  matter  aforesaid.  By  writ 
of  privy  seal  amongst  the  mandates  of  this  term  (Easter),  266/. 

Scene  VI. 

[Jack  Cade  and  the  rest.]  In  Holinshed,  Jack  Cade  and  his 
followers  do  not  appear  at  all  as  the  crazy  Calibans  whom  the 
dramatist  depicts.  The  chief  of  their  grievances,  in  fact,  was  that 
the  King  alienated  the  crown  revenues  and  lived  on  the  taxes; 
and,  moreover,  they  complained  of  abuses  of  all  sorts  in  the  exe- 
cution of  the  laws  and  the  raising  of  revenue.  The  third  article 
of  their  memorial  stands  in  striking  contrast  to  their  action  in  the 
play;  for  it  points  out  that  nobles  of  royal  blood  (probably  mean- 
ing York)  are  excluded  from  the  King's  "  dailie  presence,"  while 
he  gives  advancement  to  "  other  meane  persons  of  lower  nature," 
who  close  the  King's  ears  to  the  complaints  of  the  country,  and 
distribute  favours,  not  according  to  law,  but  for  gifts  and  bribes. 
Moreover,  they  complain  of  interferences  with  freedom  of  elec- 
tion, and,  in  short,  express  themselves  quite  temperately  and  con- 
stitutionally. Finally,  in  more  than  one  passage  of  the  com- 
plaint, they  give  utterance  to  a  thoroughly  English  and  patriotic 
resentment  of  the  loss  of  Normandy,  Gascony,  Aquitaine,  Anjou, 
and  Maine. 

5,6.  treason  .  .  .  Mortimer: — Holinshed  says:  "He  also 
put  to  execution  in  Southwarke  diverse  persons,  some  for  break- 
ing this  ordinance,  and  other  being  his  old  acquaintance,  lest  they 
should  bewray  his  base  linage,  disparaging  him  for  his  usurped 
name  of  Mortimer." 

15.  set  London  bridge  on  iire\ — At  that  time  London  bridge 
was  of  wood,  and  the  houses  upon  it  were  actually  burnt  in  this 
rebellion.  Hall  says  "  he  entered  London,  and  cut  the  ropes  of 
the  drawbridge." 

Scene  VII. 

23-49.  A  comparison  of  this  speech  as  it  is  in  the  Quarto  will 
show  that  it  gained  nothing  in  humour  by  the  revisal :    "  Come 

167 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

hither,  thou  Say,  thou  George  [serge],  thou  buckram  lord,  what 
answer  canst  thou  make  unto  my  mightiness,  for  delivering  up 
the  towns  in  France  to  monsieur  Bus-mine-cue,  the  dolphin  of 
France?  And,  more  than  so,  thou  hast  most  traitorously  erected 
a  grammar-school,  to  infect  the  youth  of  the  realm ;  and  against 
the  King's  crown  and  dignity  thou  hast  built  up  a  paper-mill: 
nay,  it  will  be  said  to  thy  face,  that  thou  keep'st  men  in  thy  house 
that  daily  read  of  books  with  red  letters,  and  talk  of  a  noun  and 
verb,  and  such  abominable  words  as  no  Christian  ear  is  able  to 
endure  it.  And,  besides  all  this,  thou  hast  appointed  certain 
justices  of  the  peace  in  every  shire,  to  hang  honest  men  that 
steal  for  their  living;  and  because  they  could  not  read,  thou  hast 
hung  them  up,  only  for  which  cause  they  were  most  worthy  to 
live." 

107-115.  The  following  is  Holinshed's  account  of  these  doings: 
"  After  that,  he  entered  into  London,  cut  the  ropes  of  the  draw- 
bridge, and  strooke  his  sword  on  London  stone,  saieng,  '  Now  is 
Mortimer  lord  of  this  citie.'  And,  after  a  glosing  declaration 
made  to  the  maior  touching  the  cause  of  his  thither  comming, 
he  departed  againe  into  Southwarke,  and  upon  the  third  dale  of 
Julie  he  caused  sir  James  Fines,  Lord  Saie,  and  treasurer  of  Eng- 
land, to  be  brought  to  the  Guildhall,  and  there  to  be  arreigned ; 
who,  being  before  the  Kings  justices  put  to  answer,  desired  to  be 
tried  by  his  peeres,  for  the  longer  delaie  of  his  life.  The  capteine, 
perceiving  his  dilatorie  plee,  by  force  tooke  him  from  the  officers, 
and  brought  him  to  the  standard  in  Cheape,  and  there  caused  his 
head  to  be  striken  off,  and  pitched  it  upon  an  high  pole,  which  was 
openlie  borne  before  him  through  the  streets.  And,  not  content 
herewith,  he  went  to  Mile-end,  and  there  apprehended  sir  James 
Cromer,  then  sheriffe  of  Kent,  and  sonne-in-law  to  the  said  Lord 
Saie,  causing  him  likewise  to  be  beheaded,  and  his  head  to  be 
fixed  on  a  pole.  And  with  these  two  heads  this  bloudie  wretch 
entred  into  the  citie  againe,  and  as  it  were  in  spite  caused  them 
in  everie  street  to  kisse  together,  to  the  great  detestation  of  all 
the  beholders." 

Scene  IX. 

26.  gallozv glasses  .  .  .  kernes : — "  The  Galloglasse,"  as  stated 
in  Stanihurst's  Description  of  Ireland,  "  useth  a  kind  of  pollax 
for  his  weapon.  These  men  are  grim  of  countenance,  tall  of 
stature,  big  of  limme,  lusty  of  body,  wel  and  strongly  timbered. 

168 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

The  kerne  is  an  ordinary  foot-soldier,  using  for  weapon  his  sword 
and  target,  and  sometimes  his  piece,  being  commonly  good  mark- 
men.'' 

Scene  X. 

90.  The  dramatist  in  this  passage  has  wandered  from  the  line 
of  historical  fact,  w^ith  a  view,  no  doubt,  to  relieve  his  scenes  of 
strife  and  hatred  with  a  passage  of  rural  quiet  and  unambitious 
comfort.  Iden  had  in  fact  just  been  appointed  sheriff  of  Kent, 
and  was  in  pursuit  of  Cade,  having  left  home  for  that  very  pur- 
pose. The  matter,  however,  is  thus  given  by  Holinshed :  "A 
gentleman  of  Kent,  named  Alexander  Eden,  awaited  so  his  time, 
that  he  tooke  the  said  Cade  in  a  garden  in  Sussex;  so  that  there 
he  was  slain  at  Hothfield,  and  brought  to  London  in  a  cart,  where 
he  was  quartered,  his  head  set  on  London  bridge,  and  his  quarters 
sent  to  diverse  places  to  be  set  up  in  the  shire  of  Kent."  Cade's 
flight  occurred  on  the  9th  of  July,  1450,  and  his  death  but  two 
days  after. 
* 

ACT  FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

41.  York's  arrival  from  Ireland  was  in  September,  a  few  weeks 
after  Cade's  death.  Proceeding  to  London  with  a  retinue  of  four 
thousand  men,  he  wrung  from  the  King  a  promise  that  he  would 
call  a  Parliament,  and  then  retired  to  one  of  his  castles.  Upon 
the  return  of  Somerset  from  France  a  few  days  later,  the  old  en- 
mity between  them  revived  with  greater  fierceness  than  ever.  The 
next  year  York  withdrew  into  Wales,  and  there  gathered  an  army 
of  ten  thousand  men ;  and  when  the  King  went  against  him  with  a 
much  larger  force,  he  turned  aside  and  passed  on  into  Kent,  and 
encamped  himself  near  Dartford.  From  thence  he  sent  word  to 
the  King  that  his  coming  was  but  to  remove  certain  evil  counsel- 
lors, especially  Somerset,  and  promising  to  dissolve  his  army,  if 
that  nobleman  were  committed  to  prison,  and  held  to  answer  in 
open  Parliament  whatever  charges  might  be  laid  against  him. 
The  issue  of  the  negotiation  thereupon  is  thus  stated  by  Holin- 
shed: "After  all  this  adoo.  it  was  agreed  upon  by  advise,  for 
the  avoiding  of  bloudshed,  and  pacifieng  of  the  duke  and  his  peo- 
ple, that  the  Duke  of  Summerset  was  committed  to  ward,  as  some 

169 


Notes  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

say,  or  else  commanded  to  keepe  himselfe  privie  in  his  owne 
house  for  a  time." 

122.  [Enter  Edzuard  and  Richard.]  At  this  time,  1455,  Ed- 
ward, York's  oldest  son,  was  but  ten  years  old.  However,  Holin- 
shed  relates,  that  "  whilest  the  councell  treated  of  saving  or  des- 
patching the  Duke  of  Yorke,  a  rumour  sprang  through  London, 
that  Edward  Earle  of  March,  sonne  and  heire-apparent  to  the 
said  duke,  with  a  great  armie  of  Marchmen  was  comming  toward 
London ;  which  tidings  sore  appalled  the  Queene  and  the  whole 
councell."  The  issue  of  this  trouble  was,  that  "the  councell  set 
the  Duke  of  Yorke  at  libertie,  and  permitted  him  to  go  to  his 
castell  of  Wigmore,  in  the  marches  of  Wales,  by  whose  absence 
the  Duke  of  Summerset  rose  in  such  high  favour,  both  with  the 
King  and  Queene,  that  his  voice  onelie  ruled,  and  his  voice  alone 
was  heard." 

131.  Bedlam: — This  "  hospitall  for  distracted  people,"  was 
founded,  according  to  Stowe,  by  Simon  Fitz-Mary,  one  of  the 
sherirts  of  London,  in  the  year  1246.  It  was  called  *'  The  Hos- 
pital of  St.  Mary  of  Bethlehem  " ;  which  latter  term  was  corrupted 
into  Bedlam.  In  this  part  of  the  Scene,  the  dramatist,  in  order 
to  come  at  once  upon  the  battle  of  Saint  Alban's,  overleaps  a 
period  of  three  years,  from  March,  1452,  to  the  spring  of  1455, 
during  which  time  the  Queen  gave  birth  to  a  son,  who  was  named 
Edward,  and,  the  King  having  fallen  into  a  state  of  bodily  and 
mental  imbecility,  York  regained  the  ascendancy  and  became  pro- 
tector, and  Somerset  was  committed  to  the  Tower,  but,  upon  the 
King's  recovery  not  long  after,  was  released ;  whereupon  York 
withdrew  into  Wales,  and  gathered  the  army  which  fought  on  his 
side  in  the  ensuing  battle. 

134,  135.  let  liim  to  the  Tozver,  etc. : — It  was  Somerset,  not  Clif- 
ford, that  gave  this  advice. 

157,  158.  Hence,  heap  of  wrath,  etc.: — In  the  stage  direction  of 
the  Quarto  we  have,  "  Enter  the  Duke  of  York's  sons,  Edward 
the  Earl  of  March  and  crook-hack  Richard,  at  the  one  door,  with 
Drum  and  Soldiers."  The  draniatist  here  anticipates  by  many 
years;  for  as  York's  oldest  son  was  at  this  time  but  thirteen,  and 
as  there  were  two  others,  Edmund  and  George,  between  him  and 
Richard,  of  course  the  latter  could  have  had  no  part  in  these 
transactions.  A  similar  anticipation  touching  Prince  Henry 
occurs  near  the  close  of  Richard  II.  "This  thing,"  says  Hudson, 
"  is  so  in  keeping  with  Shakespeare's  method  of  art,  that  it  may 
go  far  towards  inferring  his  authorship  of  the  original  play." 

170 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Notes 

Scene  II. 

28.  [Clifford  falls.]  The  author,  in  making  CHfford  fall  by 
the  hand  of  York,  has  departed  from  the  truth  of  history.  This 
circumstance,  however,  serves  to  prepare  the  reader  or  spectator 
for  the  vengeance  afterwards  taken  by  Clifford's  son  on  York  and 
Rutland.  At  the  beginning  of  Part  III.  the  dramatist  represents 
Clifford's  death  as  it  really  happened : — 

"  Lord  Clifford,  and  lord  Stafford,  all  a-breast. 
Charged  our  main  battle's  front,  and  breaking  in 
Were  by  the  swords  of  common  soldiers  slain." 

69.  Hath  made  the  zv{:::ard  famous: — Referring  to  the  predic- 
tion of  the  Spirit  in  I.  iv.  37-39,  Holinshed  says :  "  There  died 
under  the  signe  of  the  castell,  Edmund  Duke  of  Summerset,  who, 
as  hath  been  reported,  was  warned  long  before  to  avoid  all  cas- 
tels."  This  Edmund  was  brother  to  John  Beaufort,  the  Somer- 
set of  the  preceding  play,  and  succeeded  to  the  title  at  his  death 
in  1432.  He  was  the  King's  nearest  surviving  relative,  being 
grandson  to  John  of  Ghent,  and,  after  the  fall  of  Suffolk,  was 
looked  to  and  trusted  by  his  royal  kinsman  as  a  counterpoise  to 
the  ambition  of  York.  He  left  three  sons,  Henry,  Edmund,  and 
John,  who,  says  the  chronicler,  "  to  the  extremitie  of  death  tooke 
part  with  the  line  of  King  Henrie." 

Scene  III. 

9.  Three  times  bestrid  him  : — That  is,  three  times  I  saw  him 
fallen,  and  striding  over  him  defended  him  till  he  recovered. 
This  act  of  friendship  Shakespeare  has  frequently  mentioned. 


171 


THE  SECOND  PART  OF 


Questions  on  2  Henry  VI 


ACT  FIRST. 

1.  At  the  opening  of  the  play,  what  commission  does  Suffolk- 
surrender  as  completed? 

2.  How  does  this  episode  resemble  that  of  Guinevere  and 
Lancelot?  How  is  the  parallel  more  strongly  suggested  in  a 
speech  of  Margaret  in  a  subsequent  scene? 

3.  What  were  the  formal  conditions  of  Margaret's  marriage? 
How  did  these  terms  affect  the  nobles?  Was  their  apparent  cause 
for  disaffection  more  than  a  subterfuge? 

4.  What  was  York's  special  grievance,  and  what  purposes  for 
the  future  does  he  form? 

5.  What  was  Gloucester's  dream  as  told  by  him  in  Sc.  ii.  ? 
What  does  it  foreshadow? 

6.  What  did  the  Duchess  Eleanor  dream?  How  is  it  show:i 
that  her  dream  has  no  vital  relation  to  forthcoming  events  ? 

7.  Why  is  the  mystery  of  Eleanor's  machination  so  soon  un- 
covered ? 

8.  What  is  effected  by  the  first  two  speeches  of  Sc.  iii.? 

9.  Show  how  far-reaching  was  the  effect  of  Peter's  petition. 
Compare  this  dramatic  expedient  with  one  in  a  later  play — Much 
Ado  About  Nothing — where  an  apparently  irrelevant  act  of  the 
stupid  lower  classes  has  an  important  bearing  upon  the  lives  of 
the  people  of  the  upper  world.  Suggest  the  implication  here  con- 
tained. 

10.  Account  for  the  feelings  back  of  Queen  Margaret's  speech 
beginning  line  43. 

11.  Wliat  is  foreshadowed  in  Warwick's  speech,  line  113? 

12.  How  does  Gloucester  decide  the  dispute  as  to  the  regency? 
What  does  it  portend  to  himself? 

13.  Explain  the  prophecies  of  the  Spirit  in  Sc.  iv. 

172 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Questions 

ACT  SECOND. 

14.  What  things  are  done  in  the  King's  presence  in  So.  i.? 

15.  How  does  he  comment  on  hawking ;  on  the  barons'  quarrel  ; 
on  the  sight  of  the  impostor  Simpcox  and  his  detection  by 
Gloucester? 

16.  What  manner  of  mind  does  the  King  display  here? 

17.  How  does  Simpcox's  wife  show  herself  and  her  husband  to 
be  impostors  before  Gloucester  undertakes  to  unmask  them? 

18.  What  is  the  purpose  of  this  episode  as  it  relates  to  the  King? 
As  it  relates  to  Gloucester  ? 

19.  If,  as  concerns  Gloucester,  the  dramatist's  purpose  is  to 
point  the  irony  of  the  situation — that  is,  the  triumph  over  Simp- 
cox, the  sarcastic  applause  of  the  peers,  and  the  news  of  Duchess 
Eleanor's  arrest — are  not  the  elements  of  the  situation  rather  in- 
congruous, partaking  on  the  one  hand  of  farce  and  on  the  other 
of  tragedy? 

20.  What  historical  blunders  does  Sc.  ii.  contain  ?  What  is  the 
assumption  contained  in  York's  reply  (line  64)  IP'c  thank  you, 
lords? 

21.  Why  does  Margaret  taunt  Gloucester  after  he  is  deprived 
of  his  office? 

22.  What  was  decided  according  to  ancient  custom  by  the  trial 
by  combat?     To  what  classes  of  society  was  this  custom  relegated? 

23.  What  penance  was  imposed  upon  Eleanor?  Wliy  does  she 
long  for  her  prison?  Why  does  she  end  her  dramatic  life  at  this 
point? 

24.  Compare  her  character  with  that  of  Margaret.  Wherein 
were  there  resemblances?     Which  was  the  stronger  individuality? 

25.  Does  either  of  the  women  accomplish  on  the  other  the  re- 
venge that  she  threatens? 


ACT  THIRD. 

26.  What  actuates  Margaret  to  her  denunciation  of  Gloucester? 

27.  Did  Henry  fear  or  love  him? 

28.  Upon  what  plea  does  Henry  leave  the  Parliament  after  the 
arrest  of  Gloucester? 

2g.  Show  the  reasons  why  each  of  the  enemies  of  Gloucester 
desires  his  death.    Who  assumes  the  office  of  executioner? 

173 


Questions  THE  SECOND  PART  OF 

30.  What  motives  had  the  council  for  sending  York  into  Ireland? 

31.  How  are  his  own  purposes  served  by  this  act? 

32.  How  is  John  Cade  introduced?  How  does  York  describe 
his  personal  qualities?    What  chance  resemblance  is  made  use  of? 

33.  What  dramatic  effect  is  secured  by  informing  the  spectators 
cf  Gloucester's  death  before  Suffolk  comes  in  to  inform  the 
King  ? 

34.  Whom  does  Henry  suspect  of  being  the  murderer?  Why 
docs  Margaret  try  to  turn  the  King's  mind  to  herself  by  imputing 
to  him  neglect? 

35.  Indicate  the  dramatic  purpose  of  the  scene  of  inquisition 
over  the  dead  body  of  Gloucester. 

36.  To  what  does  the  clamour  of  the  commons  urge  the  King? 
Was  Henry's  oath  deliberate,  or  the  resort  of  a  distracted  weak- 
ling? 

37.  What  motive  holds  him  to  his  decree  banishing  Suffolk? 

38.  Which  are  the  more  terrible,  the  imprecations  of  Suffolk, 
or  those  of  the  Queen? 

39.  The  love-passages  between  Suffolk,  though  unhistorical,  yet 
seem  dramatically  warranted  as  a  completion  of  the  Queen's 
character.     Comment  upon  this, 

40.  Comment  on  the  Queen's   speech  in  Sc.   ii.  beginning  line 
9.    Does  she  show  traces  of  a  conscience? 

41.  What  is  the  purpose  in  exhibiting  the  death  of  the  cardinal? 

42.  What  has  been  effected  dramatically  by  the  long  quarrel, 
begun  in  "Part  I.,  between  Gloucester  and  the  Cardinal? 

43.  Does  the  end  of  Act  III.  mark  the  climax  of  the  trilogy? 


ACT  FOURTH. 

^4.  Do  you  judge  that  Shakespeare  wrote  Sc.  i. ?  Comment 
upon  the  undramatic  character  of  the  Captain's  speeches.  Com- 
pare them  with  the  speeches  of  the  Captain  in  Twelfth  Night. 

45.  Remark  upon  the  following  aspects  of  the  Cade  scenes  in 
this  Act:  the  logic  of  mobs;  their  humour;  the  mutual  distrust  of 
their  members ;  their  servile  aping  of  the  aristocracy ;  their  sus- 
picion of  all  the  attributes  of  culture ;  their  cruelty  and  brutality. 

46.  How  did  the  King  propose  to  deal  with  the  insurrectionists? 

47.  How  are  some  of  the  historic  facts  of  the  Wat  Tyler  re- 
bellion mingled  with  this  later  uprising? 

174 


KING  HENRY  VI.  Questions 

48.  Is  it  possible  to  deduce  from  these  scenes  somewhat  of 
Shakespeare's  political  beliefs?  What  would  he  think  of  universal 
suffrage? 

49.  What  quality  does  Cade  show  in  line  107  of  Sc.  vii.? 

50.  What  fundamental  characteristic  of  mobs  does  Sc.  viii.  ex- 
hibit? 

51.  How  are  the  arrested  multitude  treated  by  the  King?  What 
premonition  does  this  afford  of  his  attitude  towards  the  impend- 
ing greater  menace  of  York? 

52.  How  is  Cade  finally  subdued?  Does  Shakespeare  allow  him 
any  traits  that  enlist  the  sympathies? 

53.  Considering  2  Henry  VI ,  as  a  unit,  how  does  Act  IV.  con- 
tribute to  the  resolution? 

ACT  FIFTH. 

54.  With  what  pretext  does  York  appear  with  his  armed  force? 
What  leads  him  to  declare  his  real  purposes? 

55.  How  does  young  Richard  Plantagenet  declare  himself  in 
Sc.  i.?    What  does  he  afterwards  become? 

56.  Who  go  over  to  the  cause  of  York? 

57.  What  is  the  result  of  the  battle  of  Saint  Alban's  as  concerns 
the  cause  of  York? 

58.  To  what  action  is  Henry  stirred? 

For  general  questions  see* end  of  3  Henry  VI. 


175 


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